The Watchman II: Through the Looking Glass
by Someone072
Summary: Three years post-Watchman: With White Rabbit becoming wide-spread in Jump City, can the silent protectors of the League stop this poison before its too late? An old enemy's back in town and things can only get worse before they get better. Complete
1. 01: Through The Looking Glass

A/n: Erick is a living contradiction, isn't he? After saying "THERE WILL BE NO SEQUEL"... just like I did with Never Fear... What do I do? I begin work on what will surely be another drain on my already strained psyche...  
AND WITH THAT OUT OF THE WAY, WELCOME BACK! For all of those who are wondering, this time around I'm taking a slightly different approach. While the drama and darkness will still be present, I'm thinking about expanding the humor just a little bit. After three years of living with Raven, Gar's lightened up a bit... Can't say the same for the villians he runs into though. Lets hope I finish this one because I only have a vague idea where this is heading!

**The Watchman II****  
**

---

Jump City, Market Avenue.. A bustling city in the midst of the noon-time rush of a Tuesday workday. Crammed streets are filled with all forms of vehicles from bicycles to freight trucks. Horns sounding off like a New York orchestra, people flooding the sidewalks as they browse the shops and stores lined along the downtown avenues. Those not busy shopping or indulging on the city's copious amounts of food fill the towering high-rises, working their nine-to-fives with all the awareness of a blind man to the world around them. Blue sky, occasionally rippled with clouds like fog over a lake reflect off the massive buildings, illuminating the streets below in an off-white glow. If not for the ever-present Jump City Bay, the city might find itself in the midst of a sweltering heat wave. Thankfully the cool breeze, sea salt in its wisps, gulls in the currents, keeps the heat at a relatively comfortable day...

Peaceful to all but those that know the truth of the city's true ugliness...

Sitting on a bench, alone, wearing a loose, black button-down shirt and blue jeans, sits a rather ordinary looking man. His blonde hair, messy and stretching over his eyes, carelessly drifts in the breeze. Slightly tan from the summer rays, he doesn't seem to care about the light bathing him today. No, only the pair of headphones concealed under his hair and a chocolate-filled, warm-baked croissant seem to attract his interest. In one ear is the sound of a soft, chill-out cover of a Bob Dylan song, the other is silent and waiting for someone to speak up. A smile on his face, the man seems at peace with the world.  
At least, to the untrained eye it would seem that way. Behind a pair of green-tinted sunglasses, emerald eyes see things much differently. After all, three years can be both a quick time and yet a long time...

_"Enjoying your lunch?" _Interrupting the peaceful music in his right ear, the inquisitive voice of the Question appears in the other. Someone really needs to give that man a ring tone.

"Trying to. Don't try and lecture me about bad food either, Raven couldn't even stop it." Ignoring the looks of people passing by, often too busy to care, Gar instead continues to munch on his pastry.

_"Well might want to wrap it up soon. Dessert's about to be served."_

Eyeglasses reflecting the sunlight, obscuring his forest eyes, Gar replies with less enthusiasm. "Funny, I don't remember ordering that. How many plates and cupcakes?"

_"You got four cupcakes, each packing sprinkles, delivered on a four-door white plate."_

"I was hoping for a slice of lemon pie too." Gar sarcastically whines, taking his second-to-last bite of pastry before it disappears entirely.

_"Your girlfriend's idea I'm afraid. Says you're getting too big off the sweets."_

Asshole. Now he's just toying with me.

_"I bet you just called me an asshole inside of your mind, didn't you?"_

Glare vanishing from the lenses, one can see his eyes again. Though once they were originally full with a peaceful mirth, they now have all the love of a cold, Siberian night.

"That's the question, isn't it? I think it's time I go pick up the check."

Tapping off the earpiece before Q can respond, Gar finishes his pastry with a lick of his finger. Good to the last bite. Switching the music to a entirely different, much more grungy soundtrack, Gar can't help but wonder if the sweets inside the Jump City Regional Bank will taste even sweeter.

---

"Sir, we've got the place on lock down. Silent alarm still hasn't been tripped."

The scene inside the bank is chaotic at best. Two security guards are beaten down and throw on the floor with bindings around their limbs. Customers, clutching to themselves huddled in groups, watch in horror as a masked burglar walks by, aiming his AK-47 at their faces. Each worker, though panicked, swiftly moves to fill up duffel bags with cash, ready for transport. Finally, the four robbers inside keep the hostages in check until the getaway van arrives once more.

"Good. The sooner we get in, the sooner we can get the fuck out of here. I don't like this one damn bit."

Aiming at the crowd, one of the robbers asks cautiously "Because the Titans haven't shown up yet?"

Looking away from the man asking, the leader stares at the shadows at the back replying "I'm more worried about the Watchman than the Titans."

"Move it lady!" one of the men yells, angry as one of the tellers is slacking off in his eyes. "I thought Watchman wasn't doing small time busts no more?"

"He isn't." The leader replies, tension thick in his accent. Behind the mask, his beady eyes narrow. "But this isn't for a small time cause, is it?"

---

Around the block from the bank awaits a white, two-door van with back doors shut. Engine on, exhaust fuming, radio playing, it doesn't look very harmful in the busy city environment. Of course the man inside would betray that thought. Looking to and fro for anything "suspicious", like he isn't, the man in question prays silently that a meter cop isn't on patrol.

Like a flash, a man appears next to the driver's side window. Before the man can shout back, startled, the man growls a single word of cynical humor.

"Boo."

---

"Alright ladies and gentlemen!" The leader inside the bank yells out, gun waving in the air. "You've all been wonderful. We hope to do business again with your fine establishment!" A few steps towards the door, he stops suddenly and turns back to the crowd. "Just so you don't get any ideas about following us..."

Several gunshots ring out across the hall, snapping the support off of a chandler. Thundering onto the floor, throwing twisted bits of steel and a snowstorm of glass everywhere, the crowd is too scared to abandon their gaze from the display. With a gloved hand waving goodbye as the leader walks away, it would seem all is going their way. The getaway van is parked out front, pulling up in a heartbeat as per plan. Time to slip the goods into the back and get out of here before the cops show up.

Inside, as the four pile into the back of the van, bags in tow, the leader looks to the driver and shouts "Get us out of here! We don't have all day!"

"That's a shame." The four men, their originally gleeful expressions draining from their faces, recoil with horror at the voice. Grizzled as a graveyard digger, and just as haunting.. "I got all day to _kill_."

Their horror is justified as the man sitting in the driver's seat turns back to look at their expressions. They might have guns but if the rumors are true, guns won't stop the evilly smiling maniac before them.

---

Hours later, with the sun setting on the ocean's horizon, police officers have the four men leaning against the van in cuffs. Parked near the break line of the surf by a jetty, the place seems so serene compared to the reason for the gathering. Their eyes, still wide from the ordeal, contrast the bored expressions on the beat cops.

"Ok, lets go through this again... What happened?"

The leader, scratches on his face and neck, looks up and shivers...

---

On the opposite side of town, below the remains of an old hippie record store, a man walks down a hidden stairwell. Eyes staring down the walkway, glasses long since returned to the breast pocket, he knows the inevitable is coming. After so long living alone, with nothing but a television and a comfy couch waiting for him, it was only a matter of time... The door opens, revealing the cool-lit room within. Gone is the ragged couch, so similar to a long-since abandoned trench coat, and in with a leather wrap around. Sitting on the couch is the one thing that Gar wasn't entirely wishing to see at the moment.

"Your stunt made the six o'clock news."

Yup, Raven might be able to buy her own beer now but not even time can change all habits. Voice still as dry as the other side of a towel, full of cynicism and chill, it reminds Gar of times long since past. No, focus on the present! No time to think about the past when a pale-skinned, short-haired Goth is glaring holes at your forehead.

"Meditating to the newscast? You're scaring me sometimes." Gar reminds, unbuttoning the shirt, walking towards the kitchen in the back of the room.

Eyeing him as he walks, Raven reminds him "Remember when I warned you about being subtle?"

"Vaguely."

"Or the time I warned you to stay off the highway?"

"Possibly."

Fading into his view from the floor up, Raven appears through her psychic "soul-self". Amethyst eyes meeting emerald, the resident Goth reminds him.

"Or about ignoring me?"

Stopping now, Gar nervously laughs, throwing a hand behind his head "Gee, how could I forget that one?"

SMACK, a howl of pain.

Walking back towards the couch, Raven replies with a huff "Make sure you remember that for next time you do wheelies on the highway."

Clutching his chest delicately, hand print burned into the skin, Gar's eyes look like floods as he whimpers back "And they say I'M the scary one.."

Looking back at him with an obviously fake smile, Raven reminds him "Only outside of the house. Inside you're mine."

Shrinking away towards the shelving area, Gar replies with a bit of fear on his face. "If I would've known what I was getting into three years ago..."

"You would've done it anyway. So what did you learn anyway?"

Setting water to boil on the stove in a black kettle, Gar's voice changes back into a business tone to match her own.

"Not much. Seems whoever hired them was good about keeping them silent. Told only to rough up the place, steal a couple thousand in differential bills, then drop it off. They didn't give up the warehouse easily, hence the wheelie."

"Vans don't do wheelies. How'd you pull that off?" Despite the contempt for the blatant stunt, a small part of her admits it was interesting to see on the TV.

"Animal magnetism."

Rolling her eyes, Raven looks towards any direction that isn't his way. "You're something, you know that?"

Whistle blowing on the kettle, Gar lets out a small laugh "Aww, you don't mean that."

"Things like that got you reprimanded by Lantern last week." Raven reminds coldly, smelling the sweet smell of lavender and green mint fill the air.

Filling the contents of the cups with ease, Gar defends simply "Dealer wouldn't talk. Not my fault if he fell down a slippery fire escape."

Turning back on the couch to look his direction, Raven points out "Claiming he fell on ice in the middle of Summer isn't the best way to lie. You could've at least said he fell trying to escape."

Both cups in hand, he walks towards his girlfriend with a sly smirk. Tooth protruding as ever, Gar admits "Could've but I like my stories to make an impact. That and I don't like being babysat by the League if we're supposed to be autonomous."

Blowing on the steaming contents of the mug in hand, plaintively she reminds him "Take that up with Question next time you see him."

After a quick sip of his own tea, Gar points out "The warehouse, by the way, turned out to be a dead lead. Nothing but some old spider webs and a few bottles of beer. Tried talking to the spiders to figure out..."

Eyebrow raised, Raven's expression matches the unusualness of his comment.

"Spiders have eyes too." Gar informs, ever the zoologist. "And some of them have good suggestions too."

Setting down her cup on the coffee table, she suggests "And what, pray tell, would those be?"

Evil grin forming on his face, he taunts her "Now now, if I told you some of them, you'd try it out on me. I don't mind being nice sometimes but you do have a bit of a dominatrix thing... ARGH!!"

Faster than he can realize, Gar finds himself smashing back-first into the ceiling, courtesy of a black mass of psychic energy underneath him. Squeaking in pain, he tries to escape the energy field.

"I don't even know what you're talking about." Raven denies, a smile on her lips as she looks away from Gar's terrified form.

---

With the moon glowing bright over the city, you would think most of the city would be asleep by now. Nope, not Garfield Logan. No time for sleep when you have a cup of coffee in one hand and images on a computer screen going at the same time. Dozens of newspaper clippings, each scanned from library reels, feeds into his database as he searches for something in particular. Steam long-since faded from the coffee, keyboard keys worn down, someone's been awake far too long it seems.

_"Who hired you thugs anyway? What is it you're planning now? Another gun-running scheme through the waterfront?"_

Shaking his head, Gar silences that suggestion with a sip of his brown beverage.

_"Can't be. The Titans took them out before it got too big. Maybe they're using it to bring someone in from overseas?"_

Another sip of the coffee.. Why does it taste colder than usual? Time better not be speeding up or else...

_"Starting to sound like Question. Got to figure this out. Four men hit the bank, one man drives away. JCRB... that poor bank gets hit up more times than a drug dealer with the junkies..."_

Coffee cup tips a bit, surprising Gar. Looking down at the liquid, his expression changes to intrigue.

_"Hmm... Warehouse district, twenty-five thousand dollars.. Small job by definition but with something larger in mind?White Rabbit hasn't gone away and they've definitely moved to a new location. Too much to consider at the moment."_

"I need more coffee."

Beep Beep on the earpiece. _"What you want isn't inside that box of Folders, Gar."_

Bored expression on his tired face, Gar points out in the dark "But its the best part of waking up, Doc."

He can almost swear he heard a snort coming from the other end of the line. _"You've been awake for two days now. I'd suggest you get some sleep."_

"Sorry doc but you're starting to sound like Rae and Q... and Huntress... Crap, everyone's telling me to sleep again."

_"You can't rise and _shine_ unless you go to bed and.."_

"Doc, its almost two in the morning, please no puns this early?" Scratching an inch on his face, Gar doesn't particularly care for light-related humor right now. ESPECIALLY when it deals with his sleep habits.

_"You'll need it for more than just that, Watchman. Big Blue's calling a meeting tomorrow and we're all supposed to be there."_

Stopping at the fridge, Gar bangs his head off the door lightly. "Dammit. Didn't we just talk to him last week?"

_"He says its urgent."_ a pause enters the comm-link, surprising Gar for a second. _"They think they found a lead to Ripper's trail."_

Whatever sense of boredom, weariness, and fatigue on Gar's face is seemingly vanished like a magician's hand. Eyes looking at the shelves with a stoic gaze, he replies back solemnly.

"What time?"

_"Five at night. He's trying to squeeze this in after his day job and some date he's having with Ms. Lane."_

"Better be right this time. If this turns out to be another dead link.."

"Gar?"

"Got to go Doc. See you at the tower."

_"Sleep, Watchman."_

Click.

From the doorway, Gar's intense stare matches the questioning eyes on Raven's face.

"Who was that?"

Collecting himself, Gar replies simply "Light. Meeting with Big Blue tomorrow evening."

"Must be important. I could feel the shift in the air from halfway down the hall."

Fist balling, veins starting to form on the limbs.. "They might have an idea where Ripper is."

For only a fraction of a moment, Raven's eyes widen in stark realization. As quick as it happens though, it returns to normal. "Gar.. come to bed. I don't want you brooding all night again like the last Ripper lead."

"Are all of you conspiring against me to make me sleep?" Gar asks, trying not to sound overly serious despite the revelation.

Crossing the gap, Raven pulls Gar into an embrace despite his nearly being a foot taller than her. Leaning her head into his chest, she reminds him.

"Stressing yourself isn't going to make you anymore aware of what's going on."

Pulling her closer with a hug of his own, looking down at the nearly black hair on her head, Gar asks "Is that really the only reason why?"

"No... I'm cold too."

---

A/n2: Not overly action I admit but I didn't want to kick you in the stomach right away. Possible return of Ripper? White Rabbit rearing its ugly head again? Rorschach-inspired Gar turning into Vash-inspired Gar? Find out more later.  
And I will be taking my time with this story, not rushing it like the last one. I want this one to both last as well as be enjoyable.... like sex after not having it for months.

Trivia:  
"Three years is both a quick time and yet a long time", modified quote from Big O's Schwarzwald. That guy would've made a great nemesis for Gar.

Recommended Listening:  
Emma - In The Summertime

Question:  
If Watchman and the gang have grouped up, do you suppose a few other villians from the prequel might've also as well? Hehe.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Nice to see this old fool still has people reading his oddball work. Speaking of oddball, you might be wondering why Gar's seeming so... I don't know, half-happy and half-predator? During my hiatus, I thought about what Gar really became after nearly four years from the Titans. Outside of being a predatory vigilante, he seemed to also be developing an odd sense of humor. Dark, yet at times, very sarcastical. Very "Raven" like. But, as we can all agree, as we get older, we also start to appreciate friends/family more. It occured to me that after awhile of being around people like Q, Huntress, Doc, Raven, and (to a lesser degree) Jinx, Gar would be a little more willing to loosen up around them. Never "Beast Boy" again, mind you, but enough to help ease the stress of being "Watchman". That doesn't mean he'll be softer on the criminals.. just might be a bit more.. well.. light-hearted around people he cares for. Faking or not, Gar can't deny that he still wants the people around him to feel good. This time though he doesn't have to act to do it.

**The Watchman II****  
**

---

The next day, high above the Earth floating outside the window, Gar and Doctor Light walk together towards the gathered assembly room. With his beard a few inches longer, starting to take on a Fu Manchu appearance, the normally Euro-looking doctor is starting to appear Asian. Of course, compared to the green beast with the toothy grin and green glasses, that might not be too far out of the ordinary.

"Seriously doc, relax. You don't stand out that much." For all of his harshness towards the doc in the early years of his career, Gar's mirth seems to betray no evidence of their once bitter rivalry.

Adjusting his suit coat, a fine-tailored piece of work from Italy, complete with black fabrics top-to-bottom and _bright_ white tie, Dr. Light scoffs back. "Please, its better than wearing that ridiculous trench coat you always seem to fancy. If I have to be on a space station filled with 'heroes', I might as well look better than them all."

Faking a hurt expression, Gar asks "Now what's wrong with my coat? I think it works better than your expensive suit. Chicks like it better too."

"Your creepy girlfriend and those gothic women on the Titans don't count. Besides, when you get to be my level of genius, you learn to blend in rather than ask for trouble."

Passing a few heroes in the hallways, Gar finds himself joking. "Robbing banks in broad daylight, firing lightbeams everywhere, and crappy lines counts as blending in? I'll pass."

"That's the _brilliance_ of it all. I employ subtlety while still maintaining an impressive image." Despite the insult thrown his way, Light's own grin matches Gar.

"Old habits never change, do they?"

As the pair reach the door leading to the briefing room, Light replies back simply "I don't know. Lets see if Big Blue's still the boy scout he always was."

---

As the briefing continues, Gar finds himself staring blankly at the digital screen before the gathered five. Unlike Raven and the others, Gar's lack of interest stems from a comment made by Superman at the beginning. Apparently the "lead" on Ripper was actually a dead end, a rumor mislabeled dealing with a lead on "Riddler".

"The spread of White Rabbit in Jump City has become more rapid than we anticipated. According to DEA agents in the city, the raid on the distribution center three years ago only postponed the drug rather than stopping it."

Gar, Light, and Q exchange an odd glance at the mention of the former cathedral's destruction. Good times.

"We've also learned from them that unless we stop this new push by the dealers now, Jump City could become the most drug-dependant city on the West Coast."

"And that's saying something if it could pass Los Angeles." Huntress points out. Gotham's bad enough but the fear of a Gotham on the West looks very real.

"That's why we're giving you this assignment. The Watchmen have been instrumental in keeping the trade in check long enough for the DEA to do its job. However, they haven't been able to complete the task in time. So, the ball's in your court now."

"Five of us against a growing drug trade? Sure about that?" Raven asks, ever-present dryness in her tone. Giving them this missions means..

"Watchman's going to level half the city this time if you let him off the leash." Dr. Light points out before Superman can reply.

Gar raises his finger to counter before Question joins the fray. "Not to mention covering up the increase in violent beatings treated by area hospitals."

Mouth open, eye twitching, Gar tries to interject but now even Huntress jokes "Don't forget telling the JCFD. Somebody's gonna be set on fire, I know it."

Defeated, Watchman sighs and slumps into his seat.

"I don't want to see anyone killed, everyone got that? Do what you have to do to get them to talk.. everything short of getting the League in trouble, got that?"

"Got it.." Gar mutters. Why does the whole world have to plot against him?

"Find out where the stuff's coming in, who's dealing it, and who's buying it. Jump City isn't the gateway to America and it's going to stay that way!" Superman reminds, voice dropping a bit more serious than usual. "Good luck.. and good hunting."

As the group stands up, Gar pops his back from stiffness "Gotta earn that paycheck somehow."

---

If you're going to live life on the fringe, might as well take advantage of free food, right? When your job is to work in the shadows, figuring out the truth behind corruption, crime, and general disorder, you snag whatever you can get. Doesn't mean you have to start work right away though.

Down in the cafeteria of the Watchtower, the five members of the "Watchmen" gather around an oval table, taking advantage of a free meal before heading back "home". Naturally the two couples sit by each other though each member seems to be equally spaced from the people next to them. Question's quirks seem to be rubbing off on them these days.

Handful of bread and meat, Dr. Light takes a bit of his sandwich. "Mm.. I must admit, you heroes certainly don't skimp on the food budget."

"Not a hero." Gar reminds absentmindedly, years of being told or asked about the "hero" question having formed a trigger in his head.

"When you have some sixty oddballs running around in spandex suits, you need to keep their strength up. You should see Flash eat." Huntress remarks, tending to a simple Caesar salad.

"By oddball do you mean...?"

"I think you fell into that category long ago, Q." Raven points out, choosing instead a simple combination of toast and tea.

"She has a point babydoll." Huntress agrees, smiling eyes looking at the faceless man beside her.

"Being the only one here with an Asian meal, I'll take that as a compliment. Eccentricity has its merits."

Gar's odd expression is tempered by Dr. Light making a bad light joke. "Better than being called crazy for being so _brilliant_."

"Another Light joke, doc, and I'm throwing this can at your head." Watchman warns, busily chomping down on a can filled with beans. Unlike the other members, Gar was more than happy to request the can straight from the pantry. No heat required, just a fork and can opener.

"Speaking of crazy, ever wonder why everyone stares at you up here?" Raven asks, pointing at the can under Gar's hands.

"At first I thought it was because of my good looks. Then guys started to look too." Gar counters back. He who laughs last...

SMACK.... maybe they don't always laugh loudest..

"Some people never learn." Question sighs, setting down his plate of noodles and beef.

"Too much magnetism to go around, right Q?" Gar suggests. His attempt at humor ruins aground, however, as Q doesn't second that idea. Instead, two glaring women look to vent their rage at the green vigilante. "And they say WE'RE the violent ones. Geez."

Hand raised threatening, Raven warns with a cocked eyebrow "Like to repeat that?"

"Not too _bright_, are you?" Light offers off-handedly, finding the sandwich more interesting than the ever-common bickering between boyfriend and girlfriend.

"What gave that away?" Huntress replies, shaking her head as Gar pleads for his life.

"And what's worse is he's Question's successor, is he not?" Light asks.

"Protege' isn't something I'm interested in right now." Question cuts that question off at the head. Gar might be a good detective but there could be others out there worth looking for too.

"Sorry baby but the world can't handle two of you. If Luthor were still around he'd agree." Huntress replies with a wry smirk.

"Love you too."

Clearing his throat with a serious intent, Gar asks the obvious question. "How do you guys want to go after this mission?"

The seriousness in Gar's voice seems to change the tone of the occupants' demeanor as swiftly as a passing breeze. Jokes aside, they're in this group for a reason.

"Five people searching at one time might be suspicious." Question suggests. "Whoever's in charge will be expecting League intervention by now."

"Which means a quiet, stealthy approach. Keep the dealers under close watch and expand from there." Huntress continues.

"Anyone else having a deja vu here?" Light offers, bored look on his face. Its obvious where this discussion will go.

"Only difference is this time we can choose where and when to strike. Don't worry doc, you'll get the honor of blowing up another building." Gar's evil smile sends shivers down his science-minded friend's spine. "And despite what my "friends" say in the briefing room, I plan to keep the beatings to a minimum."

Four outside looks of genuine surprise greet Gar's own grin.

"You're joking, right?" Huntress asks, stunned Gar would tone down his own sense of "fun".

"If it is, it's worse than Light's." Raven suggests.

"Take offense to that." Doc replies but also keeps his eyes locked on Gar.

It's Question, however, that breaks the air of confusion. "I see. So you're going to make them come to you?"

Leaning back in his chair, smiling proud. "Just like the bank yesterday. Why go out there and break some bones when I can just wait for the right time to strike. They're human like the rest of us, they'll fuck up. When they do, I'll be there to pounce."

"Wow, that's pretty clever of you."

For the first time in a long time, Question's monotone voice seems to squeak with sarcasm. Wiping a fake tear away from his hidden face, he jokes "Our little Garfield's growing up."

Proud smile fading to his own shocked one, the group suddenly bursts into a laugh at the joke. Gar only watches as they once again pull the rug out from under his feet.

"Bastards.."

Passing by the table, a pair of heroes look at the laughing team of misfits and look at each other with questioning glances. Shrugging, they walk out of sight, leaving the "oddballs" to their own devices.

---

With the nightfall settling over Jump City, still as active as ever despite the coming night, the city finds itself at the whim of a man in black and green...

_"Where are you going?" Raven asked, seeing Gar slipping into his coat just minutes after getting back from the meeting in space._

_"Haven't the rounds in awhile. Think I'll get a drink while I'm out."_

_Glaring.. Why does she always have to do that? "You come home drunk again..."_

_"And you'll shove your foot straight up past my ass and into my stomach, got it." Gar answers, half bored as well as half scared. Raven isn't one for empty threats these days._

_"And please don't set anyone on fire tonight."_

_Slumping his shoulders in a sigh, Gar looks at Rae and asks "Why do you all keep bringing that up? It was an accident that time, honest."_

_"Just don't."_

_Waving as he leaves, Gar answers politely "Ok, I'll try. Later."_

...

Music playing in his earpiece, Gar recounts the "escape" from home with a bit of mixed emotion. Maybe living that year alone made him a bit crazy in the head but sometimes even the Watchman needs some peace by himself. For all the years she isolated herself from him... No, no time for those kind of thoughts. Time for the task at hand.

_"Need information on possible drug suppliers. Need to keep it quiet for the moment. Where first?"_

Looking up at the street signs, down the slowly-quieting streets, amidst the glowing signs of bars and clubs, Gar finally makes up his mind. Evil grin on his face, he whispers to himself. Changing the song on his music player, Gar seems ready for a fun night indeed.

"Haven't stopped by the old haunt in a long time. Lets see what the scum are up to tonight?"

---

"I say we listen to Zeppelin!"

"Bullocks on that! Zeppy's not'a bad band to be sure but tonight should be one for the classics, aye?"

Once again, the underworld's now most famous "pub" in Jump City is the center of a music debate. You would think after all this time the debate of British Rock would've taken itself out into the street but Mad Mod won't budge on his decision for music.

"If you two don't stop fighting, I'm kicking you out." The bartender warns, cleaning a beer mug in hand and an eyepatch over his left eye. "Its bad enough you two fight every week!"

Punk Rocket and Mod, ready to exchange fists, simply look back at the tender before resigning themselves to the jukebox's whim. If only the box where the only thing in Jump City operating on a whimsy.

Through the noise of the gathered criminals and thugs, a voice comes echoing behind the front door.

_"... I just knew too much... DOES THAT MAKE ME CRAZY??"_

The room stops cold in its tracks, alarmed at what that voice implies. Its not often you hear such a scratchy voice hit so high an octave.

_"DOES THAT MAKE ME CRAZY?!"_ the voice approaches closer behind the door, ready for the high note.

With a fierce kick, the door goes flying across the room, landing hard against the bar. To the customers' horror, Garfield Logan, predator's smile on his face and shining behind green lens, steps into the bar. One thing's for sure: Watchman isn't here tonight to sell any troupe cookies.. though if they're lucky, he won't shove them down their throat for information.

_"Probably..."_ the green vigilante finishes the chorus of his song, taking off the earpiece. "Its been two months. How's it been?"

Mod and Punk Rocket, now abandoning their discussion of music, cling together in fear back by the rear of the bar.

"Hey, listen, you just can't.." the bartender shouts, uncommonly bold in front of the new arrival.

"Dude, shut up man!" someone yells, disbelief that someone in the joint is taking a stand.

"You haven't been around him before! He'll fuck you up!"

Walking over to the bar, and thus the tender behind said bar, Gar takes off his glasses and fixates his glare on the one-eyed fool. Licking his teeth, savoring the meal to come, the wolf has found its prey.

Pulling out a switch knife, the tender warns. "Just because I'm new here doesn't mean I'm afraid of some freak in a trench coat!"

Jumping up to sit on the bar, legs dangling behind the wooden frame, Gar taunts the man in sight. Voice emphasizing each note with the grace of a man in an inkblot mask, he begins. "I guess you didn't know it but I'm a sharp man too. But if you'd care to make a dare, I'll just make a bet with you."

Growling at the obvious joke, the tender lunges forward with the blade. This mocking little shit, thinking he's badder than him? He's got another thing...

Just inches away from the blade striking Gar in the chest, a lone claw from Gar's right pointer finger embeds itself in the man's missing eye. Patch torn, Gar claps the man's eye socket with his fingers.

"You lost the dare." Playing with you food might be a child's flaw but it can be a hunter's thrill. "Too slow. Need to work on your timing. That blunt little thing won't kill me that easily. I could have half of your skull in my hands right now. Not interested in killing tonight. Answers."

Startled and gasping, the man prays for help from the city's resident criminals inside. To his horror, not a single person dares stand up in his defense. In fact, one of them openly mocks him for being such a damned fool.

"White Rabbit's on the rise lately. Not good for this city. How about you be good for me? Looking for White Rabbit's main supply depot. Patience is a luxury I can't afford in this recession."

"I... I don't know anything about no White Rabbit! C'mon man, get your finger out of my eye!"

"Strike one. Not baseball either. Two strikes, you die."

Other eye tearing up, fearful of his life, the tender merely shrieks and whimpers like a little child.

"Mercy isn't cheap either. Last chance. Talk or die."

As the gathering watches, terrified that Gar's words will come true, the bartender awaits his fate with all the resolve of a child about to receive a booster shot.

After seconds of tense waiting, Gar removes his claw and spits in disgust. "Pathetic." Stepping off of the bar, he starts walking for the doorway. "Scum like you make this city dirty. Dry off the piss from your leg. Go back home, Jump City doesn't need your kind."

From his blurry eye, the man can see Gar's back exposed. If he throws the knife just right, maybe he can..

"Oh, forgot to mention. Throw that knife my way, you won't live to see it hit the doorway."

Stunned into submission, the tender merely falls back against the shelving unit behind him. Gar's retreating form seems like the angel of death in his eye, mercifully leaving him wondering if this city is losing its mind after all.

---

Outside, Gar's surprised to see an old face parked by a much younger, more vibrant car.

"Gar, you sly dog you. Why are you still playing with children?"

Before Watchman can answer, his face turning to a startled yelp, he's sprung apon by a mass of pink hair and a ear-to-ear grin.

_"Should've figured Jinx would be following me again."_

_---_

a/n2: And we're back! White Rabbit.. a scurge to be sure, but to give ya heads-up, you have to wonder something: "If Ripper made the drug, where is he?" Well, maybe its possible, but what if Ripper only created it and something else took control? I doubt the creator's of Cocaine and Meth still own the trade, someone had to take over, right? Oh, you have no idea.

I'm very thankful of all the love people are showing so far. I hope to entertain you as long as my sanity remains somewhat there! As I'm doing with a few of my reviewers, I'm offering you a chance to be an influence on this story. If you have an idea for a semi-realistic character (that meaning no "Superheroes" but people like Demon and Blue where in Watchman I), then I'd be happy to hear your idea. Since the overall series is in the future, not set in JLU anymore, there's a big gap of "cast" that needs to be filled. Hero or Villian (or maybe Government?), I'd like to hear your ideas.

Trivia:  
- Question looking for other proteges.. Renee Montoya reference, anyone?  
- Gar's song walking into the bar is snippet from "Crazy" by Gnarlz Barkley (greatest name ever... hehe, Gnarlz)  
- Yes, I hate country, but I thought the "Devil Went Down to Georgia" quote fit like a black glove.

Recommended listening:  
Bobby Womack - Across 110th Street  
Zero 7 - Distractions_  
_


	3. Chapter 3

A/n: I notice the more I write this, the more "Watchman I" gets read/reviewed... yet no one's reading "Green Rabbit" or "Never Fear".. two stories that have serious connections to the Watchman mythos! Either way, getting great reviews and favoritism! Love you all.  
Speaking of love, see if anyone can see something strange with "love" in this chapter! On the flip side, Gar's becoming a bit more... creatively violent. If you think this is bad though, wait til you see a villian I'm co-creating down the road with a long-time reviwer. She thinks she knows scary... hehe.. Its rated "M", remember?

**The Watchman II****  
**

---

"Remind me again just how you got this car?"

The question from Gar comes as he finds himself belted into the passenger side of a car that looks about the same age as Jinx herself. Not present are the rounded edges or "modern comforts" of 21st century vehicles. No, present is uptight seating, a tape deck, A/C, a radio with two knobs, and Jinx with one wry smile on her face.

"Donation. Some guys just can't play poker too well."

The smugness of that smile doesn't pass by his sharp sense of detection. "Feel on some bad luck, huh?"

Pink energy seeping through her gripped fingers, Jinx replies overtly sweetly "Gar, honey, whatever could you mean?"

Looking out towards the passing buildings now, he accepts the truth with a bemused sigh. "That isn't very _heroic_ you know."

"Lecturing me about the moralities of life? That's pretty funny in of itself."

Point taken.

"I could've used my animal reflexes to avoid your glomp." Gar admits, casting an equally sly glance her way.

Slamming the gas pedal a little harder than prepared for, the emerald anti-hero finds himself jostled against the back of his seat hard.

"Oops," Jinx counters, fake grin even wider.

"Jinx?"

Smile growing, waiting for that now famous catchphrase from the former vagrant crime fighter.

"I hate you."

---

"So why are you out here anyway Jinx? Things too cramped at the tower?" Nothing but the same old closed shops and trash cans visible from the inside window. Pity that when the sun goes down, so does the activities.. if you're a law-abiding citizen that is.

"That and I heard a rumor you'd be down at the bar tonight."

"Rumor?" Hand holding up his head, Gar looks more tired at the moment than anything.

"Ok, you got me. Raven called me. You really gotta get her some friends sometime."

Eyebrow raised, Gar ventures "I thought you were her friend?"

Tapping the wheel with her finger, Jinx jokes "Raven has friends? Nah, kidding. She said yous just got assigned a new mission or something. Told me to keep an eye out in case you got into some trouble."

"Wow, Raven sent you to babysit me? Or did she do it to keep an eye on me?"

A slight chuckle from Jinx surprises Gar. "Raven's the jealous type?"

"Not to gloat but she does hit me more around women than you think."

"Wow, surprised you didn't blame it on magnetism. I can see why though, you look better these days."

Rolling down the window to catch some air, Gar suggests "Is that from a single girl's point of view or is that from a doctor's?"

"A little of both. She definitely keeps you from looking like a hobo again, that's for sure. Back when you first took on that Watchman job, you looked like a total mess. No wonder everyone was afraid of you."

"I always imagined it was because someone kept crashing at my house, turning up the music, scaring away the neighbors with violent, drunken outbursts?" Gar counters.

"And you loved it."

Awkward silence at that...

"But anyway, I wanted to get out of the tower too. Robin's been on a tear lately and he's thinking of asking Star to marry him."

Whistle "No shit? About time."

"Ugh, don't speak so soon. That girl's got more stars in her eyes than the whole sky. I think she's rubbing off on me too."

"Hence the glompage, huh?"

Gripping the wheel a bit tighter than normal, Jinx answers "....Yeah, hence the glomp."

As they pull up to a red light, Gar notices a particularly interesting sight. A man, dressed with the usual brisk jacket and jeans, stands on the corner with a shifty eye, looking for anything suspicious. Around him appear a few other men, all looking none desirable and out of place with the downtown area.

"Hey Jinx. Tell me what that looks like?"

Looking over at Gar's subtle nod, she suggests. "Something that you probably shouldn't get involved with. Looks like a drug group."

"Group?"

"These days they clump together for protection. Single dealers aren't as safe as before, does it for protection. Bet one of them has a gun too."

Thinking for a few seconds more as the light stays red, Gar ponders his options.

"Gar, no."

"What?"

"You know what! You're going to storm in there like Superman and fuck someone up, aren't you?"

Toothy grin, he tells her "Park around the corner. We'll surprise 'em."

"_We_? You ain't getting me roped into this!"

Light green, no choice but to hit the gas.

"Then let me out around the corner then. Part of my job's to find who's pushing the drugs and where it's coming from."

Exasperated sigh escaping her lips, she warns him. "Ok, fine. But if you get one of us shot.."

"Actually I'm hoping. Gives me a reason to use deadly force."

---

"This has to be the most stupid, retarded, ass-headed plan ever..." Jinx curses under her breath.

The pair, both standing on the roof above the assembled gang, look down with mixed reactions. Jinx's pale face, emphasized with pink orbs of annoyance, twists in a nervous frown. Gar's, ever the black comedian, simply answers with a polite wave.

"Better than walking up to them and saying their mothers wear army boots."

"Actually this ties for that."

"Hey, smile for once, I'm letting you have the most fun out of all of this." Gar advises, playing around with a small lighter in his pocket.

"Oh? And why's that?"

Jumping up to the ledge, turning to face her, he spreads out his arms and winks at her. "You're the one doing the interrogating."

"What? You gotta be shitting.. GAR!"

Without a second thought, Gar hops off the ledge, free-falling towards the gang. Jinx's shout catches their attention, just in time to see a frightening sight. As the body nears one of the guards, Gar's body changes into a cobra, landing on the man's face and knocking him over. His screams are punctuated by calls for help. As the gangsters shout, trying to help their friend, Watchman changes into a frog and leaps off of his face. Landing on a man's coat sleeve, he switches into a rat, scurrying up the man's jacket.

"What the fuck is this thing! GET IT OFF OF ME!"

"Show off." Jinx mutters with a face palm, ready to string into action.

After toying with the second man, Gar finds the man with the gun in question. Leaping off the second gangster's neck, he finally turns back into a human form. Standing a couple feet away from the group, his smile and green glasses seem more at home in the pages of a comic than the streets of Jump.

"When will you humans learn?"

Not only does the man with the gun produce a pistol, aimed at Gar's face, but so do the remaining men sans the one holding a few packets of powder under his coat.

"What the fuck are you?!"

"I don't know what kinda freaky shit you was doing but you ain't gonna live long enough to do it again!"

Mirth rolling off his face, Gar answers dangerously close to evil. "Quite right. Jinx?"

Their collective expressions match each other. Another antagonist? Jinx? "Teen Titan" Jinx? "The Queen Witch Bitch" Jinx? Turning around to meet the new arrival, their fear turns into reality as a stream of pink energies melts the metal guns in their hands.

"Guns don't kill people.." Snapping her fingers, the ground rattles with pink energy. A concussive blast, like mini-quakes below their feet, strikes down all the men previously holding weapons. "But I'M considering it."

As the dealer backs away from Jinx, he's swiftly reminded that there's still one person left to deal with. Backing into a thick chest, punctuated by black leather and one very short fuse, he squeals for mercy...

---

"She's on her way." Gar informs his pink companion. Now standing high above Jump City atop one of the downtown buildings, the two vigilantes and one captive find themselves wondering what's going to happen next. Amidst the police sirens, car horns, and other activities of the bustling city, one can almost forget the job they're about to undertake.

"Hope she doesn't ream you out for being such an ass again." Jinx hisses at him.

"Lighten up, Jinx. Its all part of the plan."

"I don't need to hear Joker quotes from you right now, Garfield!" she warns. Not only is her car parked in the middle of the city, begging to be broken into, but now she has to do the dirty work in finding out this low-life's job.

As quick as the debate starts, a black Raven appears on the roof, transforming its soul-self into the heroine of the same name.

"About time." Jinx mutters, wanting out of the situation already.

"Didn't know he'd get into so much trouble tonight. What did he do now?"

Holding his hand behind his head, Gar tries to soothe the ruffled feathers of both women. "Hey, c'mon, just doin' my job ma'am."

"Your boyfriend roped me into jumping a half-dozen goons down the street over some drug beef. They had guns too. If they would've shot either of us..."

"Then they wouldn'tve lived to see tomorrow." Raven finishes for her, looking at the suspect in question. Eyes wide and mouth ajar, he looks ready to pass out at any moment.

"That and he's making me do the talking for this." Jinx adds, crossing her arms at the thought.

"Good idea." Looking at this defeated man in the eye, she tells him honestly "Watchman would've just killed you on the spot."

Walking away, Raven casts a look at the witch in question. "Ready when you are, Jinx."

Putting on a fake smile to hide the anger, she decides to start it off with a bang. Leaning over to smile at the man, she asks a bit too sweet. "Now, are you going to be a good boy and tell me what I want to know?"

If you're going to die, die fighting.

"Fuck you bitch!"

Smile turning a bit more evil, Jinx's fingers start to glow pink. Maybe Gar letting her do the interrogation wasn't such a bad idea in the long run. "Lets try this again..."

---

"I ain't sayin' shit.." Tough words despite the loss of air in them. Breathing hard, despite multiple cuts and bruises across his face, the dealer's will refuses to break. "If that's the best you got, better send me someone more worthy. Damn, for a superhero, you ain't shit.."

Jinx, pissed to be sure, looks more upset that this guy has the nerve to keep up the insults.

"You can tag out if you want, Jinx. I won't blame you." Gar calls out, arms folded and watching with a bored expression. Raven gives him a dirty look for the comment but he simply ignores her outright.

"Fuck you, Watchman!" she curses back. Friends or not, this is a matter of pride in one's career. Gar's great at intimidation, doesn't mean she can't be too.

"C'mon, send in Jolly Green back there, I'll fuck with him too!"

KICK

Head snapped back from a hard-toed boot, the dealer's eyes seem to swim for a bit before coughing out some blood. "Props. Still gotta work at it though, only hit the jaw."

"Who's giving you the White Rabbit, fuckface? Someone in the city's feeling generous and I'd like to take some of the shares too."

"That'a'girl Jinx!" Gar cheers before Raven elbows him hard in the ribs.

"Who's givin' me the shit? I'll tell you if you bend down and suck on these..."

Eyes flaring, Jinx summons a large bit of energy into her right fist, leveling him hard across the eye socket and slamming him into the wall support by the roof's exit structure.

"TELL ME WHERE IT'S COMING FROM!"

Cough, spit, more blood. Uh-oh, not good, there's a tooth in that blood. Die bold. "Suck!...on!.. my!...."

With a horrifying loud roar, Jinx summons all her power into her fist, ready to deliver the killing blow.

Needless to say, it takes the intervention of both Gar and Raven to keep her from sending this man to the abyss for good.

"We'll take it from here, Jinx." Gar tells her. "Did a good job."

"Let me just kill this bastard and get it over with already!" Jinx hisses, seething in rage.

"Hey Raven?" Gar asks.

"What?"

"When was the last time the two of you went on a bar-hop?" Watchman asks, eyes gleaming with suspicion.

Catching the drift, Raven replies "Too long. How about it, Jinx? Kill off some steam. I'll pay this time?"

Surprisingly, Jinx's rage fades almost instantly at the sound of a free tab. "Really? Fine but I should warn you, I got a great tolerance."

"I've heard." Walking away with Jinx, Raven looks back and warns Gar. "DON'T overdo it."

Turning dark himself, Gar assures her "Have fun Rae. I'll be home soon."

"Now the two bitches left me with this sucka fool huh? What you gonna do that she ain't able to..."

Hoisted up into his arms, Gar lifts the man by the shirt with as much effort as he would lifting a roll of toilet paper.

Voice sounding harsh and full of rage, Gar's green eyes bore straight into the hurt victim. "Insult my friends? Bad idea."

Firmly in his grasp, Gar drags him over to the ledge of the roof and throws him onto the ground. Face leaning over the ledge, Gar places his foot behind the man's neck.

"Bad predicament. Try to get up, broken neck. Try to slip away, fall to your death. Lie to me, I rip every bone out of your body."

"You're lying! Just tryin' to punk me out!"

Shaking his head in amazement, he slips out his lighter from his pocket and starts to roll up the man's shirt by his lower back.

"Question. Know what a tramp stamp is?"

"Fuck you jabbering about?"

"Tattoo on your lower back. Women get them. Butterflies, hearts, tribal.. One woman I know has brass knuckles there. What design do you want?"

Unable to look back, the man barks back in rage "You do anything to me, boss gonna shoot your green ass so full of.. " Only screams of pain follow the insult.

Flesh burning, Gar drags the lit flame down the man's back. Not as hot as a spot welder but the intention remains the same. Flesh starts to blister from the heat of the flame, bringing further screams of pain from the victim's hoarse throat.

"White Rabbit. Who gives you your supply? Sandman's still in jail. Blue maybe?" If Gar's growing any more bored, he's hiding it well.

"Please.." the once defiant man begs, pain burning (literally) through his body. "Don't make me snitch. They'll kill me! Please..."

"Please what? Have a heart?" Gar asks, spitting onto the man's face as he tries to steal a look back. "Don't look at it. Might make you panic. Might make you take a plunge."

"If... if I tell you... will you keep me a secret? I don't wanna die!"

Letting the flame rise just enough for a quick respite, Gar muses "Maybe. Depends on the truth. Oops, I think I missed a spot."

"C'MON! I'LL TALK! LET ME GO!"

Smiling, proud of his handiwork, Gar releases the foot from the man's neck and pulls him off the ledge.

"Good human. Speak."

---

Back at home some time later, Gar finds himself alone at home with Raven still out with Jinx. Flipping the lighter in his hand, he thinks back to the information given to him by the weak-hearted but ultimately stubborn drug dealer.

_"I get my shit through a contact. Says he works for a guy operating out of this nightclub. 5th and 9th street. Its not the main supplier but shit, if you really got a death wish, then go for it."_

"Death wish, huh?" Commonly used word for craziness, isn't it? Death isn't something on the menu for this hunter. No, bigger fish to fry. _He_'s still out there. The monster that made Gar this way. Everything must be righted before he can die. It takes a man to kill a monster anyway.

Mind stopping a bit, Gar's expression turns into curious thoughtfulness before remarking on his own thoughts. "I've been reading too many comics."

---

A/n2: So, there you go! Gar can be a bit of an ass when he has to be.. but he can also be so deliciously evil. The last story was an exercise in angst and drama, I think Watchman II is going to be an exercise in both morality and violence. Times are getting tougher, the means might not always match the ends... Someone's going to get hurt and I'm not going to be there to clean the bar when its all over!

Trivia:  
- Yes, Gar did steal a Joker line in this story. Dark Knight (and Ledger) have once again reared their heads in this story.  
- Spot-welder line... Good eyes, stole that from the Punisher as well. Hey, Raven said he ain't as cute as him.  
- The Tramp Stamp (knuckles) is based on a girl I know. Badass tattoo by the way.  
- Nightclub... on "5th" and "9th"... hmm...  
- "Only a man can kill a monster".. Hellsing fans might recognize that reference.

Recommended Book:  
Dante's "Divine Comedy". Inferno's the best part but still a great read.

Question:  
You people REALLY like darkness don't you? Continue to inspire me to become darker and darker. Unlike last story where it made me depressed, I WANT to see what that bad place really can do for my fiction. Encourage me to get darker if you think its not evil enough.


	4. Chapter 4

A/n: Loving the reviews, seriously, you guys make my day. This chapter isn't action packed but I wanted to show you guys something you haven't seen from me in my writing style. White Rabbit, I know I'm dwelling on it, but after that "using the same plot" review, I wanted to show you why I'm still using it. This isn't just for a job. For Gar, its very personal... But Gar isn't the only one who's been through it. That and listening to the Jazz theme from Big O nonstop makes me feel like writing very dark (lighting) pieces. I want to drink, makes me sad, thus helps me write depressingly. Not a tear-jerker but more of an introspective on the damage this drug does to the community.

**The Watchman II****  
**

---

_"In local news this morning a man suspected of dealing drugs was found around dawn stuffed into the back of a JCPD patrol vehicle. The officers in question reported that the man seemed to be forcibly thrust through the window while stopping at a local pastry venue. When the victim was pulled free, they reported that he seemed to be under the influence of the widely popular "White Rabbit" substance. He also appeared to be recently assaulted by what the officers could only describe as "being mauled by a small bear." Suspicion abound that this attack might be related to the Watchman, the vigilante that has been terrorizing the city's underworld for years. Police officials have not offered a statement as to the possibility..."_

"Small bear, huh? Must be losing my touch." Gar muses to himself through tense breaths as he curls a rather heavy looking piece of metal barbell. Beads of sweat slide down his large biceps, pooling on the floor beneath him like a miniature lake amongst hardwood plains.

_"Said he worked for a contact out of Blue's. Blue's the son of Desade... I hate sadists. Still, doesn't seem like his father. Scared little shit. When did he grow balls enough to push White Rabbit again? Very suspect indeed. Father's still in jail after all. Who, Blue? Questions to be answered, so little time."_

"You're making that face again."

Never breaking his stride, Gar turns his head away from the television. Still in the clothes from last night, Jinx, with a hand on her hip, cat-like grins.

"And what face is that?"

"That face that you always wear when you're thinking too much."

"Don't encourage him. He'll just try and think more to prove you wrong." Raven counters, entering the room with her palm covering her eyes.

Facing back to the television, Gar torments his girlfriend with a simple fact "Told you Jinx was a bigger drunk."

"Excuse me if I don't puke after the first pitcher of beer!" Jinx warns, crossing her arms and focusing her gaze away from Gar.

"Excuse me if I don't throw you out for spending all of my money." Raven reminds, looking for pills in the cabinet.

"As if you'd ever do that. Speaking of which, did you get shit-for-brains to talk?" Jinx asks, curiosity creeping in.

Switching arms with the heavy weight, Gar proudly proclaims "Yup. Only took two minutes this time."

"Something tells me fire was involved." Raven mutters though somewhat relieved that some pills remain. Hangovers are for college kids, not superheroes. Taking the pill with some water, she starts to get a drink in...

"Guy wouldn't cooperate. Gave him a tramp stamp to remember me by."

SPFFFF

"You what?" Jinx asks, awkward surprise on her pointy features.

"You're joking, right?" Raven asks, eye twitching at the thought.

"No joke. Only gave him a little burn, hardly anything more than a lighter burn. Was going to write a big W on his back but he talked pretty fast after that."

Most people might feel a little uneasy talking about burning someone's flesh. Good thing Gar isn't most people, huh?

"You have the strangest boyfriend I've ever known." Jinx calls out to Raven, shaking her head with closed eyes.

"Aww Jinxy-poo, you don't mean that." Gar chimes back, grinning with sweat coming off of his extended cheeks.

To their mutual surprise, a slight, muffled laugh echoes from the kitchen. So fast that if you weren't paying attention, you'd think it was a rogue mouse or squeaky pipe. But as the two young adults look back to towards the gothic heroine, their faces both turn to bemused smirks as Raven tries to hide her own smile.

Gar, in his very "subtle" way, ruins it simply by blurting out "HAH! Told ya I was funny!"

CRUNCH

Yup, the sweet, sweet sound of a man yelling as a metal barbell is mentally warped to wrap around exposed flesh and bone on the hand... Revenge, in this case, is a dish best served psychically.

"Don't push it."

---

_"So you're going to follow up on that lead from last night?"_

It might be summer but the weather doesn't seem as hot as usual. Warm enough not to freeze but still breezy enough for a black trench coat to flap lazily behind you..

_"Yeah. I'm going to wait before hitting Blue's though. Something's telling me not to rush it this time with him."_

Child with braided blonde hair, no older than four, walks past in the green reflection of glass, mother holding her by the hand.

_"Watchman with patience? I think its gonna snow."_

A "Bic" lighter twirls in the air and lands back into a peach-colored palm. Almost time for more butane again. Better adjust that "class ring", looks a little loose.

_"That and Light's offering to go with me on this. Says he might know someone worth speaking to about this."_

White suit, fine-pressed, practically glows in the summer son.

_"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're trying to turn him into a full-blown hero?"_

Soon, both figures stop by the entrance of an apartment building. The address number "411" above the door, Gar cracks a smile laced with irony. Good times..

_"Sorry, but we're not heroes. We just do what we're meant to do."_

....

"Sure this is the place?"

Slipping a key from his coat pocket, Light replies curtly "If the little shit hasn't skipped town then it's the right place."

Adjusting his frames, a fair-skinned Gar asks with a bemused chuckle "No corny joke, doc?"

Click, turn. "Not where we're going."

Grunge isn't even the word for it. Downright dirty is a better description. As the pair walk into the narrow corridor, Gar holds his nose from the rancid smell. Dirt on the walls, looking almost like human waste, piss stains on the floor and doorways... Whatever's cooking in the back of the house doesn't add to it. The horrible, putrid smell of overcooked, moldy peppers being fried adds to the symphony of degeneracy that is simply the environment of this apartment in Jump City...

Eyes stare from open doors, peering to examine these seemingly god-like beings walking towards the stairwell. Behemoths found only in the realms of children's minds and comic books, standing tall and stoic with their expensive looking clothes. Hide back into the would-be rooms, prison cells for the impoverished. These men can be nothing but trouble.

"Sad, isn't it?" Light asks, a noticeable loss of emotion in those words. "These people, all of them.. You'll never see them in the magazines or the brochures."

Gar tries to keep from staring at the few people bold enough to watch them as they climb the seemingly endless stairway to their destination.

"Gar, you're getting a first-hand look at the breeding grounds for old villains like me." Light informs, reliving certain memories as he speaks. "Not all of us were born from chemical spills or radiation. Some of us are byproducts of the system we're trying to protect."

"So you grew up in one of these homes?"

"No." Frowning, Light answers "I was one of the lucky ones. But who's to say that little boy over there with the toy gun won't point the real thing at you down the road?"

Sure enough, in one of the doorways, a small child aims a green pistol at Gar, making a "bang bang" sound as they walk by. Thankfully the sadness in those forest eyes is hidden from sight by the thin pieces of reflective glass.

"We're here."

In his ears, Gar's sharp senses can pick up the sound of wailing guitars, screeching riffs, and thunderous drumming. Music, definitely. Such a fine song too in this dreary locale'.

BANG BANG BANG

"Open up." Light commands, staring at the faded, paint-chipped door. Despite one of the numbers ready to fall off, the number 676 still stands strong against the poor-quality wood.

"Who is it?!" Wow, doesn't that voice sound gruff? Someone must've been doing something important inside.

"Your cousin, fool!"

Eyebrow raised, not just from the choice vocabulary, but from the overall tone in Light's voice. Do 40-something year old doctors really speak like..

"Cousin who, sucka?" The voice shouts back, this time just behind the door itself.

"Cousin kickin' your ass if you don't open this goddamn door!" Light warns back with all the intensity of a lightbulb about to burst.

With a whoosh, the door kicks open. Stepping away, Gar's surprised to see a man wearing a blue bandana, covered in stars, hiding his face, reach out and embrace the doctor in a bearhug.

"What's up doc?! Haven't seen your old ass in forever, man!"

"Huh?!"

---

Sunlight dimmed by wire shades, letting just the tiniest rays of light enter the decrepit room. Smoke everywhere from a pair of cigarettes held on the rims of an overflowing tray. Pictures of icons like Jimi Hendrix, Led Zeppelin, Rage Against the Machine, and more line the walls, some crooked and others with pieces ripped off. If there's a God in heaven, he'll ask this man to clean the bed sheets in this hellhole one-room apartment. Stains, both bloody and others looking like ashes, adorn the cloth more than there is original white coloring.

Sitting in the pleather recliner, its brown material worn with age and abuse, the otherwise crazy man living in this shitter laughs through the bandana.

"So you guys are huntin' White Rabbit, huh? Shit, yous got some balls asking me for help."

"Not as big as your's it seems. How quick we forget that you used to do the stuff yourself." Light counters, one eye raised slightly higher than the other.

Head bowed a bit, the host answers solemnly "And I regretted it ever since. Ain't a day goes by that I don't remember that horrible night."

Gar watches intently, a ray of light shining brightly in his left lens. In his right though, a soft eye can be seen staring..

"Which is why we need your help. Jump won't be clean until we take out the dealers, the pushers, all of it."

"Man, ain't nothing you can do gonna stop it. Have you seen this city lately? Its gotten worse ever since that shit hit the market." Throwing his hand towards the window to demonstrate, he continues. "Day after day I see more and more kids gettin' hooked on that shit. You say you wanna take out the pushers to take out the problem? Don't you see what the real problem is?"

"No, why don't you enlighten me?" The doc replies, looking a bit agitated and missing a chance for a great pun.

"While you and your friends run around, slappin' cuffs on the freaks in the suits out there, yous leave us in the dirt. Ain't no Justice League help for the slums like this place! We get by everyday, doing our best to keep this shit from killin' our kids, but it never works out! These kids get hooked on this shit, turn to fuckin' junkies, then die. You never see the DP report that shit. Always fuckin' Superman or Batman."

Light leans back in his seat, listening intently as the man rants. Gar, however, starts to stiffen up.

"Damn! You remember a few years back when a couple of you guys took out that church up town? Yous must've thought White Rabbit was dead, didn't you? Naw man, all you did was embolden these motherfuckers. They knew if the DEA wasn't strong enough to catch em, and they had to turn to your kind, they'd have an easy ride in the city. I should know, I was one of their earlier victims."

"That's why we need your help. Need to know who's dealing." Gar finally speaks, voice dark and grave.

"Man, who the fuck are you anyway? You look like you haven't even hit a pipe in a day of your life!"

Light shudders as he sees Gar slide a few fingers onto the ring on his hand. "Who am I?" Staring down the man in the fake leather chair, Gar instead replies. "I'm someone who's been in your shoes before."

What the hell? Eyes looking up at Gar's stone cold expression, Light wonders what that's supposed to mean.

"Back before the League, when the Titans were still a few years old, I made the mistake of eating a brownie at a party once. Turns out it was an early form of White Rabbit."

"You got spiked at a club meet, huh? You got that same look in your eyes as I did. What happened to you then?"

Taking off his glasses, Gar averts his eyes to the shady windows. "What happened? I saw things no one should ever see. I did things that even I consider insane. For all intensive purposes, I think I even wanted to die that night. But it also did something else."

"And what's that?"

Sliding off the ring now, Gar laments at hearing the man's gasp at his appearance.

"It made White Rabbit personal. I can't rest until we wipe that disease from the streets. Not just the rich sections, ALL of them. Jump City's the gateway to America. I want to burn that gate down."

"Light, crazy sombitch, what the fuck you doin' lettin' Watchman in here?! These people find out he's in here with us.."

"Then I'd suggest you start talking before his sympathy runs out. He's already made the news this morning with one dealer down." Despite the seriousness of the situation, Light manages a cocky smile. Having Watchman around can be a better bargaining chip than a powered light suit.

"I don't know what the fuck yous are planning but I'll tell ya this right now. I'll give ya a heads up where some of the guys meet for their shit but you better keep me the fuck out of it. Last thing I want is some fool with a full clip and an empty head firing lead at my head, got it?"

"Deal."

---

Almost noon in the Jewel of the West Coast. Sunny skies, happy smiles, pleasant feelings and sighs. How very ugly a city can look when ignorance and blindness corrupt their minds? Two faces in the crowd do not smile or even frown. No, two neutral faces masking the inner-workings of minds considering the emotional scope of their endeavors.

"So how did you meet em'?" Gar offers, voice slightly hushed compared to the usually boisterous tone.

"Few months after I came back to help you against Ripper, I ran into him on the street. Loner, begging for drug money, doped up on White Rabbit. Asked him his name, told me it was Arthur. Ironic considering that's my first name."

"No kidding." Gar remarks, staring ahead through now-returned glasses.

"Told him it was my name too. Looked up at me and said that'd make us like cousins or something like that. Don't know why I was out there that night really but I guess fate works in mysterious ways."

"Maybe life wanted you to help illuminate his way out of the darkness?" Gar offers, tiny bit of a smile on his face while looking at the reformed doctor.

Looking back, Arthur Light smiles in return. "When you say it like that, the puns don't sound so bad after all."

"Don't get your hopes up, doc. They're still bad."

"Not as bad as those guys are gonna be in the next few days."

Resolve steeling itself, Gar watches the crowds of people pass him blissfully unaware of his identity or intentions. "Yeah.... you got that right, doc."

---

A/n2: Hope you enjoyed this installment. This isn't entirely going to be Watchman Sequel, as in same formats, same arc lengths, same style.. I want to broaden my horizons with each line, chapter, arc, story. You've probably noticed my increased attention to setting and less on descriptive reactions. Watchman I was about Gar living alone, looking inwards, and trying to find his place while fighting evil. Watchman II, he's found a path to walk steadily on, but now he finally gets to be an observer this time instead of just the driver.  
I feel deep right now. Damn Jazz.... Sucks to be alone in the world.

Trivia:  
- Address "411", Good Times, was reference to "Green Rabbit" and the in-joke of a woman giving him her cell number as "411". Naive bastard thought it was real.  
- Room number 676, owned by a "crazy man" refers to chronic reader/reviewer CrAzYmAn676. Personality might be off but I like to reward my reviewers.

Recommendations:  
750 Cocktails (mixed drinks recipes), good book.  
Music wise, goto youtube and type "Music from the Big 0". Its the Jazz song I have now. Makes you appreciate this chapter more.

Question:  
Anyone know any good noir movies/books I could find? After watching clips of Big O and writing this story, I'd like to expand my literary range. I like good realist stories and Noir gets there pretty well. Thanks everyone.


	5. Chapter 5

A/n: Ohayo gozaimasu. Good morning to all of you. I hope you enjoy this next bit in the story. Old rivals arrive and a new wrench is thrown into the gears! By the way, you can find the new Watchman II poster at my deviantart page (in the profile there's a link, copy/paste it!)  
Maybe its just me as I write/type it, but I can't help but wonder if Gar might not actually be regretting working in a team again? Certain subtle actions and words, compounded by everyone's attitudes... Maybe its just me.  
Lots of hits back on the "create a character" question. While I'm supportive, and will be using a few, PLEASE realize that not everyone can be "serious yet funny, love knives, easy-going-but-angry types." We can't all be Jokers, Watchman, and Deadpool. Handerra hit the nail on the head with his character which will feature later.

**The Watchman II****  
**

---

Sunset, purple twilight in the air contrasting yellow and white building lights with only a faint few clouds in the sky. It might be one of the most beautiful times of the entire day if you're an artist or a philosopher. To Gar Logan, however, the darkening sky means only one thing: Hunting time.

_"Gar, do you read me?"_

Overlooking his unsuspecting victim, Gar feels the anticipation of the hunt creeping in. Of course, if it weren't for an incessantly nagging earpiece all the time..

"I hear you. What's your status?" Sunglasses left in their pocket, the narrowing eyes of the Watchman peer forward like those of a circling hawk.

_"Q and I are about to hit the next house on the list Crazyman gave you two. Looks like Dr. Light's source was accurate so far."_

Bit of a bemused hmph "Give a man motivation and he'll give you the truth, or at least part of it."

_"Spoken like babydoll himself. What about you? You sound like you're about to fall into some fun."_

Huntress always did have a special way with words, didn't she?

"As a matter of fact, I just might do that."

_"Please don't throw this one through a window. Use a mailbox or something bolted down to the ground. You're an insurance company's biggest nightmare, you know that?"_

Look at that guy, unsuspecting... Like a deer by the pond, thinking its all alone, getting a couple licks to drink. The enemy doesn't always come from the horizontal you know.

"How about the sewer drain? Those are bolted in." Gar offers, cracking his knuckles.

_"Fine. Just don't overdo it, ok?"_

"Keep it up and you'll start sounding like Raven."

_"I'll make sure to remind your girlfriend about that. Huntress out."_

"Excuse me if everyone nags me about my style. I don't tell people how to do their job." Gar mutters to himself once the line is clear.

No time for frustrations, only think about the prey ahead. Look! There's a junkie coming down the street now. Yup, he's heading for the target. Soon as he makes the swap, move in for the kill...

Whooshing sound behind him, coming closer!

Gar throws his body away from the ledge, rolling to a standing position to the right of his first step. Smart move too, there's a boomerang jutting into the concrete support Gar once leaned on. With a tick, it explodes in a small yet startling blast. Down below, the dealer hears the commotion and makes off like a coward.

"NO!" Gar shouts, losing sight of his target. Eyes narrowing, lips pulling back to reveal sharp fangs, he turns his head towards the back of the roof.

Posing as though working for a modeling magazine, Captain Boomerang stands tall with a hand to his cap. "H'ello there Watchman, been a long time since we last met."

No need to describe the tone of the reply judging from shrunken pupils and clenching fists. "Captain Boomerang.. Before I shove that hat down your throat, what do I owe the honor?"

"Aww, don't be like that mate! Look, if it makes you feel any better, I'll even help you set that dealer's house on fire. What do you say?"

"Help? Ridiculous. About as pathetic as that smile on your face." Standing up now, ready to toss off his coat, Gar seems to mean what he says.

Waving his hands, Cappy suggests "Hey now, be cool. I ain't here to fight. That boomer was just to grab your undivided attention. Not my fault you didn't hear me creep up to the stairwell now is it?"

"No. You started it." Oh crap, here comes Rorschach again. "Made me lose the target. Not good. Making me listen to your bullshit now. Not good at all."

Arming two more boomers in his hands, the Aussie native warns "Hey, I warned ya, I'm not here to fight. I'm here to help you. Stop going all inkblot on me and hear me out."

Stepping forward, each footfall sounding like the approach of the Valkyries, ready to swarm down and drag this sorrowful soul off to Hell itself. "Have patience for victims of crime. Victims of drugs. Victims of villains like you. Patience for villains you ask? None."

Less than six feet away, Boomerang warns one final time "Stop now or I'll do what I should've done three years ago! Stop going bloomin' psycho on me and just LISTEN!"

Surprisingly Gar does stop but doesn't change his expression in the slightest outside of tilting his head to the side. "Stalling for time. Could've thrown it seconds ago. Why?"

Boomer's eyes jumping as wide as saucers, he yells "GET DOWN!"

Instinct, for some reason Gar can't figure out, forces him to throw his body at the ground at the moment Boomerang unleashes his two discs. Landing, Gar looks behind and sees the two boomers collide with an RPG round in mid-flight, exploding over the street where Gar was patrolling. Car alarms ring out, windows are shattered into shards of dust and glass. Dogs start barking from all over the neighborhood. Let chaos reign supreme if only for a moment indeed.

"What? Rocket launcher? Where?" Gar growls, scanning the projected area for the shooter.

"That's what I was tryin' to warn ya about you stupid ass!" Boomer shouts, urging Gar to get up. "C'mon, we got to grab that bloke before he escapes. We'll take the fire escape."

Grabbing the blue-coated Aussie by the shoulder, Watchman fires back "No. We'll take my way. Hold on Cap!"

Before the protesting villain can resist, Gar changes into a pterosaur and flies off the roof, scaring the hell out of the master thief. The target, a retreating form on the top of a fourth story office two blocks away, sees the change and proceeds to the doorway leading back into the building. Simple assassination attempt but this time it appears to have gone horribly wrong.

Clutching an earpiece of his own, Boomerang yells to an unknown voice on the other end. "This is Boomerang. In pursuit of the target in question. Do you have eyes on him, over?"

The pterosaur pays no attention to this conversation below, powerful eyes scanning the building and waiting for the person to appear on the street level.

"Confirm! Watchman, we got a lock on him! He's heading for the North side exit. We'll cut him off before he can escape down the alleyway."

The screaming following the confirmation is simply from the force of swooping down faster than most humans would consider sane. Building approaching fast, Gar inwardly smiles that he's not a simply human...

Emerging from the building, the would-be killer's face looks panicked, terrified. Learning that life doesn't always work the way you want can be a tough realization indeed. Tougher still when you see a green dinosaur, man clutching for dear life to its talons, screeching at you in an Stuka-esque dive. Horror passing quickly to fight or flight, the shooter immediately turns to "flight" and takes off as fast as possible for a nearby alleyway. If you're going to escape, do it into a place with the least amount of visibility, right?

No time to look back, no time to worry about that demon and his counterpart chasing him. Through the puddles and wet garbage cans, through the darkness with brick walls flanking his route, towards the chain-link fence. Maybe then he can find a suitable place to hide. Hide from these freaks! This wasn't what he was paid to..

A flash of fire bursts into the alley, forming an inescapable wall of heat and napalm. To his intense horror, a man with a jetpack begins his drop to block the shooter's escape. Gun glowing red with the burst of flame, Firefly is none-too-pleased with the thought of losing his target.

"Heat's on now, isn't it?"

---

"Aw c'mon Firefly, did you really have to throw him into the wall like that?" Boomerang asks, Gar by his side as they enter the alleyway. Before them, the pyromaniac has the shooter leaning on the wall, sitting on the ground in terror. Gar switches his earpiece off, cutting off any chance that the League might be watching over the Watchman for the moment.

"Why's he here?" Firefly asks. This wasn't part of the plan!

"Homo sapien tried to kill me. Big mistake." Gar growls, staring at the shrinking form of his would-be murderer.

"_Homo sapien_? That's a strange way to call this scum." Firefly remarks, gun never leaving the victim's direction.

"So who do we have anyway?" Boomer asks.

"Sure we should have _him_ here? Boss won't be too happy." Firefly suggests, pointing his gun at Gar now.

"For the time being it'll have to do." Cappy answers, not liking the step forward Gar's taking.

"Boss huh? Interesting. Slade hire you full-time? Wouldn't doubt it. Pyromaniac like you..."

"BACK TO BUSINESS!" Boomerang yells. Bad enough he has to keep Gar safe at the moment but hearing him go off on a tangent is the least desirable thing at the moment to hear.

"You want to know who he is?" Gar asks, looking away from Firefly. Reaching down, he rips part of the man's shirt off. Sleeve gone, tattoos line his bicep and shoulder with various symbols and designs. Pointing at certain logos, he notes "Works for the Desade family. Probably a low-rank soldier paid for a one-shot deal."

"How do you know he's workin' for ol'Sady?"

Pointing at the image of a chain wrapped around a knife, Gar sarcastically answers "Made it pretty obvious from the fresh ink." Backhanding the frightened man, Gar torments him further. "Must think you're hot shit, huh? Wrong. You're dog shit."

"Good to know. Now, you feel like telling us why you tried to kill Watchman?" Firefly asks, gun to the man's cheek.

"He.. he's right! This guy paid me to do it! Said he'd give me a check equal to a pound of White Rabbit's value!"

"That street drug again. Junkies make me sick.." Boomer mutters, crossing his arms with a face of disgust.

"Who paid you?" Firefly presses, tapping the trigger.

"This guy! I don't know his name! Real smooth talker I found through a friend! C'mon, I don't know.."

Gar lifts the guy hard and throws him face-first at the opposite wall. Trashcans are knocked from their perches, impeding his stride only slightly. Lifting him up, the green eyes of the Watchman stare straight into beady eyes of the hitman.

"THAT WAS YOUR FIRST STRIKE! LAST CHANCE! NAME!"

"Hey, he's better at this than you 'Fly buddy." Boomer jokes at his teammate. A jet of flame is emphasis enough not to continue the torment.

When the man whimpers some words out in response, Gar's temper hits a peak.

"FIREFLY!" Gar roars, claws digging past the man's shirt and into his skin. "BRING THAT GUN OVER HERE! NEEDS TO LEARN HIS PLACE!"

"No, please! Don't! I don't know who he is! Honestly! PLEASE!"

Begging... begging... little children, always begging. Never one to accept responsibility. Always willing to take the shot but not to handle the consequence?! Worthy of life? No. Kill them thought? Can't. What to do? You'd be surprised what you can live through!

As the interrogation continues, Boomerang finds himself wincing, looking away from the sight as the two fire-happy psychopaths begin teaching the man some pointers on fire safety.

---

Later, Firefly and Boomerang talk amongst themselves as Gar speaks into the earpiece from the alley's entrance. His face seems to have a curious smile on it despite the smell of burning flesh filling the passage.

"Yeah, took a little bit but we finally got him to talk. Looks like Blue set me up again."

_"Blue? You mean Desade's son?"_

"That's right. Said he paid him to take a shot at me. Someone must've gotten suspicious when all of the White Rabbit pushers came under attack."

_"But how did he know where to find you? Granted we don't blend in too well but this city's huge."_

Looking back into the alley, Gar ventures an opinion "I think a few old friends might've had a hand in that. Just before I spring the trap one of them saves me and the other just happens to see the shooter escape the building. I don't buy it."

_"So what do you propose we do next?"_

"Get the others ready. We're gonna pay a visit to Blue's Club tonight. I'd suggest waiting but I think tonight was an aggressive invitation." Looking up at the towering skyscrapers of Jump City, Gar finishes with a joke "Q's vocabulary's rubbing off on me."

Another voice on the intercom just adds proof to the fire _"Can't help it if I'm a positive role model."_

---

"Now that you've finished calling home to your girlfriend and playmates, I suppose you find it proper now to thank us?" Boomer asks, sarcastic at first but finishing with a strong finish.

"Gratitude? Don't think so. Too curious, too suspect to be coincidence." Flexing his fingers, Gar shoots for the heart of the matter. "Why were you following me?"

"He's a quick one, isn't he? Looks like he's finally learned a thing or two these past three years." Firefly announces deadpan. Why do they keep getting jobs like this?  
"That and then some. Learned how to kill without claws. Learned how to drive people crazy without using drugs." Smiling with a tooth hanging out from his lips, Gar suggests "I could demonstrate if you'd like?"

"Do that and Slade will have your head." Boomer reminds.

"Boomerang!" Firefly chides hotly, aiming his gun towards the Aussie.

"Give it a break, 'Fly. Give the kid the credit he's due for once. He figured out we stuck together long before you thought he would. Besides, we got bigger problems to deal with and you know it."

"So Slade controls you guys now? Money tight in a recession. Need to pay the bills? Need to feel important?"

"Need to fix certain problems before the big money can be made." Boomerang counters. Gar might be a good mind-fuck but he won't be entering this genius's head without a fight. "You think your little Watchmen group's the only one after this disease? You think you're the only important group out there fighting "the good fight"? Sorry son but news flash, you're not."

Eyes narrowing, Gar slides his shades back onto his nose, hiding his orbs from the vision of the man in blue. "I see. Slade wants Ripper's last bit of legacy destroyed before he makes his move. Interesting. I don't imagine Rouge wouldn't be involved somehow, huh?"

"She was the one who ordered us to follow you." Firefly points out, leaning against the wall with his foot propping him up. All of this talking and no fire-setting.. its really annoying.

"Believe it or not kid the woman knows your value to the world. As long as you live, Ripper'll be thrown off-balance. Your life keeps him guessing, plotting against you and the Watchmen, and away from more important matters."

Although the name Ripper usually brings him untold rage, Gar allows a madman's smile to grace his lips. "And what matters would those be?"

"You're the Watchman. You figure that one out."

"First five minutes are free, the rest is 99cents a minute." Gar admits though without the sense of mirth. "Fine. Thanks for the information and the heads up. In the mean time, I hope you have something to tell me about Blue. Otherwise I might have to take it out on you two."

"Arrogant little.." Firefly curses, standing up and aiming his gun at Gar's chest.

"Watchman, listen to me good. Just because we were told to give you information doesn't mean we'll tolerate any funny business. We don't like your Justice League and your Watchmen group ain't nothin' but a far cry of a joke. But, we'll let you in on the punch line just a little bit."

With his ear to the two villains, Garfield Logan is brought up to speed on the goal the dealers hope to achieve in the city. Once narrowed, his eyes find new heights on his face. One tightly held in a devil's smile, his expression pulls back into a growl. Where his fists were kept inside his jacket, they now find themselves itching for a pair of lighters between their fingers..

"Be seein' ya, Watchman." Boomerang remarks with a gloating grin as the two villains walk out of the alleyway and into the orange/black darkness of the coming night...

Their forms retreating, Gar looks towards the skyscrapers once more and sighs. "Why? Why does this bastard have to keep haunting me? Wasn't three years ago enough?"

For the Watchman, the saddest part is that the buildings he watches so intently provide him no answers. No answers to be found out here tonight.. Except inside one particular club with a not-so-ordinary man.

---

A/n2: Yes, Boomer and Firefly are back! And now someone wants to take potshots at Gar? Blue seems the obvious target but is it really that simple? What's Ripper's plan for Jump City now? What happened to the tormented victim in this chapter? Will Gar EVER get peace from his teammates? FIND OUT MORE! SAME EVL TIME, SAME EVL CHANNEL!

Trivia:  
- Those that don't know a "Stuka" drop, imagine Gar/Boomer flying straight down from up-high with Boomer's screaming doing the siren noise. Throwback to German WWII plane Stuka divebomber.  
- Yes, more Rorschach in-jokes. Imagine Gar in the Inkblot mask?

Recommended:  
Edge of Dawn - Descent. Why? You'll understand in the next chapter.  
New Jersey Atlas and Gazette. Why? If you look in the Pine Barrens, they have a mini Jersey Devil in there.

Rhetorical:  
You honestly thought Deadshot was firing at Gar this time again, didn't you?


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Ah, summer, how I miss thee. Too cold here on the East Coast. Anyway, this chapter was fun to write. Blue's an interesting character in that he started as just an in-joke for reviewer "Blues59". He quickly became this small-time gangster that doesn't quite realize the threat he's working with. He's the perfect dummy to front a bar or club but not the best in a fight! Plus, and I'm sure a certain girl will appreciate this, we're subtlely introduced to a new character in the series.  
The chips start to line up though. You'll see what I mean.

**The Watchman II****  
**

---

If you look down the long stretch of 9th Street, contrasting the equally long distance that is 5th street, you'll find a perpetual line of street lights. Some have the ability to control traffic while most simply illuminate the street and walkways for the residents of Jump City. They shine in the windows, their mannequins staring blank at the few people bored enough to cast a stare their way. Some of the lights shine the rare, remaining mailboxes about the town or even the occasional trash can. And still a few them you can hear the buzzing sound as voltage streams through their high-powered bulbs, all in an effort to bring some form of illumination to the predominately day-loving human race. It can even shine down on five adult souls, strolling down the street in their matching black attires, sending long streaming shadows behind, ahead, and beside them.

Not a fashion statement of course. Calling ahead, Huntress discovered, much to Question's annoyance, that a "strictly black" dress code was enforced at Blue's club. Apparently the irony was enough to make Gar laugh if only slightly. So here, in the darkness approaching the club in question, five vigilantes approach. Green lens appearing almost orange in the reflection of the street lamps, purple eyes watching for any guards, black shades covering up Italian features, dark winter coat on a faceless man's shoulders, and one upset doctor having to face the dark. To the common eye they appear to be something straight out of a Matrix film. To them, however, they can claim to be above the dream world.

Blue's Club, appropriately named from the dozens of blue-themed lights, centerpiece is the giant namesake logo awash with neon light. Behind a blue-colored rail, normally a red hue, is gathered a large line of customers awaiting their turn to enter. This means little, if not nothing, to the Watchmen. Business takes precedence over pleasure.

"Hey, you know the drill buddy, get to the back!" Ripped with muscles in places most people don't have muscles, this enormous man in the awkward tuxedo is nothing a sane man with argue with.

You guessed it, Garfield Logan isn't very sane.

"We're here to see Blue." Cold, emotionless, efficient. Save the battle for the inside, not for some hired goon too dumb to realize his tie's backwards.

"Yeah? I don't see any I.D. on you either. You don't show me some paperwork I'm gonna make ya see both Black and Blue." Gar seems unimpressed as the man cracks his knuckles in a warning.

"How about this then?" Huntress offers, showing him the I.D. desired. His expression turns to fear at the name "JUSTICE LEAGUE", to the point he stutters while letting them pass.

Once inside, a second group of guards requires each member to be checked for dangerous weapons. Naturally Gar, Raven, Huntress, and Light make it through without a problem. Question, however, has to argue with a guard for a few minutes over the need for a hand stamp under his gloves. Huntress, trying not to burst a vessel in her own head, and thus ripping his off, warns him "politely" to deal with it. Reluctantly the faceless man relents, letting the Leaguers into the main hall.

---

_"A provocation and a bad case of ruby red.."_

Inside, the crowd gathered is simply enormous. For such a small floor in this building, there seems to be nothing but a wall of humanity. All wearing black, all dancing the night away.

"You ok Gar?" Raven asks, noticing Gar's nose crinkle up a bit, eyebrows narrowing behind the glasses.

The combined smell of dozens of people sweating. Pouring together onto the floor, onto strapless dressed, pressed suits, and ironed shirts... These people, some of them loaded up on White Rabbit and alcohol. The smell of barley mixing with blood in the nose.. Floor caked in the combined fluids of adrenaline and sweat, its disgusting in its scale.

_"Crazyman was right. Look at this mess."_

A woman, her skirt riding much to high on her leg, doesn't even care as two men grind away on her. Another man, his jet-black hair slicked back, holds a bottle of beer in one hand while drunkenly making out with another woman. Eye twitch. Over by the couch section.. Man does White Rabbit on a table. No police to enforce the law. No attempt to save the race. No way out of this cesspool known as Homo Sapien..

"GAR!" Raven has to yell at him, enough to jostle him from his mindset.

"What?" he growls back a bit more than he means to. Not her fault that this urban decay has...

"I know what you're thinking and I don't blame you. But we're here for a reason, ok? Don't forget that." Deep purple eyes boring into his own, an anchor in a sea of chaos. How many times has that anchor kept him from falling into the endless abyss?

"C'mon Watchman, time to find the boss." Light reminds, walking past the two and patting him on the back.

"Sooner the better. This ink's starting to sink into my skin." Question grumbles, rubbing at his hand. Huntress smacks his free hand away from the stamped one, glaring holes at him.

"Will you relax? What is it about you two anyway? Light's right, we have a job to do, so lets get it done!"

Noticing the strobe and blue hues radiating from spotlights, Light dares to crack a joke even now. "Besides, gentlemen, why ruin so a great opportunity to _shine_ tonight?"

Four sets of glares fire back at the doctor, his sigh a testament to his failure at yet another good joke.

"There he is." Gar finally speaks, looking up at a balcony high above the main dance floor. If his voice were capable, they swear it'd be cold enough to turn Blue's skin ice enough to match the cheap, all-blue suit on his body. Nevermind the baby blue pimp cane or the navy blue fedora on his head, he looks more at home in an Eiffel65 video than a club box.

The hard part, however, will be wading through the crowd. In a mass of black and sweat, its easy to get lost on your way to the target. However, when you're over six foot and known for setting skin on fire, the last thing you want is some short pimp-wannabe trying to keep you from the man helping overdose thousands of people a year.

"HEY! Watch it!" someone yells as Gar leads the push through. The anger in the man's voice, however, vanishes instantly as the Watchman's eye, tempest at full storm, glare sideways into the man's meager brown orbs. You don't fuck with someone with that kind of hate in their eyes..

As they push through, Raven looks up and notices something peculiar. No longer is Blue looking around the booth, he's now looking down their way... with a smile? Whatever's in his mind can't bode well for the Watchmen, that's for sure.

---

Guards blocking the way to the upstairs, armed with submachine guns under their coats, they appear to have hit a roadblock. However, their presence isn't necessary anymore as Blue calls from the top of the stairway.

"Don't be such a pair of jerks, shitheads! Let them through, they're for me!"

"You heard the man. Make a hole." Huntress warns, eyeing down the two goons currently eyeing her up. Bad enough to have mindless thugs eyeing you up, makes it worse is the fact your faceless boyfriend's ready to kill them without a moment's notice.. even if it takes ruining a favored necktie.

Each step feels like an inch closer to the gates of hell. The blue-tinted rug, shades of blue ceiling lights, its enough to make you sick. Someone seriously needs to show this guy the other side of the color coin.

"Hey! Watchmen! Welcome to my humble little nightclub! I hope you've had a pleasant time so far!"

The overly loud, Someone-esque voice of Blue is enough to make most of the team flinch. Most.

"Blue." Gar mutters, glaring dangerously at the man with the spread out arms. Holding the cane like that, tiny glasses on his face, he looks more like a Mad Mod rip off than the son of a sadist.

"Glad you still remember me, Watchman! Its been far too long!" Turning to a group of people sitting by the booth on his deck, he orders "Ok everyone, beat it. We have special guests and nothing special to discuss! Get going!"

Grumbles and muttering follows but nothing to worry about when you own the most swinging club in town.

Reluctantly the team take their seats at the booth while Blue slides a chair over to them. Sitting on the chair turned backwards, he looks manic and wild. "SOOOO, what can I do yous for? Its not everyday I have illustrious guests like your kind here."

"White Rabbit." Gar begins. This won't be pleasant no matter how much bullshit goes into that smile. "Hear you're up to your old habits again."

"Old habits? Whatever can you mean?"

Sighing, Gar removes his glasses and slides them into an inside pocket.

"We know what you've been up to, Blue." Raven continues, trying to diffuse this situation quickly before Gar goes crazy. "We've already found out several drug dealers in the city have been pushing White Rabbit again. What are you planning now?"

Twirling the cane, Blue suggests "Planning? You mean like what am I trying to accomplish or why am I doing it, assuming of course the rumors are true and I WAS influencing the trade?"

"Stalling. Waiting for something. What?" Question asks, fingering his chin.

"If you Leaguer's only knew the truth, that's for sure." Standing up, Blue walks to the ledge and looks over the crowd. "Although I must admit something to you, Watchman. If it weren't for you burning down that bar of mine years ago, I never would've found this place. Never would've accomplished what I have in such a short time. I really should thank you. And what proper way than an exchange of information."

"You think my old rules still apply? Information for amnesty, right?" Gar asks, voice on the verge of snapping, ripping this child's throat out.

Snapping his fingers, a handful of guards around the room raise their guns at the five. "You don't have a choice. Orders are orders, Watchman. Its only out of divine providence that I offer you this information. If it were up to me, you'd all be dead by now for ruining the grand plan."

"What do you want to know?" Huntress asks, fist clenching in her lap.

"Slade and his men. Why are they protecting you?" Blue's words, for the first time all night, descend past the realm of bullshit smile and into the very serious world of resentment. "They saved your from your fate tonight. What is it they want with you?"

"Me? Apparently the same thing you want." Gar offers, eye twitching again.

"Ripper." Blue whispers.

Four separate expressions of surprise and/or shock cross the Watchmen. One, however, remains neutral.

"Long as I'm alive, Ripper doesn't go after Slade." Smile crosses that neutral face. "And with Ripper still alive, your father won't have me killed."

"Bastard." Blue curses, walking to the other side of the room in a huff. "You Leaguers never understand. Haven't you figured out why the villains in this country have been so quiet these past three years?"

"Tell me a story then." Gar suggests, standing up from the seat.

Walking towards Watchman, he dares the wrath of the green vigilante. "You want a story? Here's one for you. Your little fight against Ripper cost my father his freedom. While your team reaped the thrill of victory, he was thrown into a prison cell. Ripper went crazy in the meantime. Apparently _someone_ injected White Rabbit into his system. That made him crazier than usual. But that's not all. With Luthor and Darkseid out of the picture, there's no real leader in the villain community left. Oh, Gotham's still out there but they got lucky. That little self-embargo they pulled kept all their top villains safe before you showed up."

"Now there's a power vacuum." Gar continues, surprising Blue. "Captain Boomerang gave the heads up before I came here." Stepping forward to match Blue, Gar looks down at the shorter man. "Ripper's still out there and your father's pissed his old master didn't bail him out. Revenge on his mind. If he gets rid of Ripper, he can control the entire West Coast using his old master's own drug. Clever theory. But there's one little problem your father didn't plan for."  
"What's that?" Blue musters the courage to ask bravely, looking up into Gar's eyes.

"He forgot that I'm not a hero." Teeth jutting from his smiling lips, Watchman practically hisses "And the enemy of my enemy can be my most valuable asset."

"Blue!" A security guard yells, running up the stairway. His breath is labored, hard to catch air when your body's thicker than a tree trunk.

"WHAT?!" Blue shouts back, eyes burning with the fire of hell itself.

"We just got a call from the boys at the docks. They say they're under attack!"

Turning, he thrusts his arms out wide as he shouts "FROM WHO?!"

"Four supervillians. They say its Slade's gang!"

No.. No way.. The timing, this can't be right. How is this possible? How could he arrange..

CLICK CLICK CLICK, machine guns are re-aimed at the Watchmen at Blue's finger snap.

"This isn't over, Watchman!" Blue shouts back, looking at Gar's continuing smile. "I don't know what sort of deal you made with Slade but its still your funeral! We have enough White Rabbit stockpiled in this state to keep the coast hopped up for years!"

Blue's rage turns to regret, however, as the other Watchmen rise to their feet. Arms spread, Raven disassembles the guns from the men aiming from the doorway. Light uses his hand-beams to immobilize the weapons aiming from behind them. Huntress and Question stand back to back, each maintaining a defensive pose to protect each other.

Watchman has the last laugh as he picks up Blue by the collar. Wolfish smile, Gar reminds him "Before I kill you, let me give you some advice. If you're going to play some music, make sure its Blue Monday by Orgy.. not Blue da ba dee da be di by Eiffel65!" Throwing him hard against a support, Blue hits the ground with an indignant thud. As the fight breaks out between the thugs and the Watchmen, he scrambles to escape the fight.

"Gar! He's getting away!" Raven warns, pointing to Blue's retreating form.

"You guys be fine without me?"

"That supposed to be a joke? Kick his ass once for me!" Huntress shouts back, round housing a much-larger man across the jaw line.

"Make him see the light!" Light yells, throwing a light ball at an on-rushing guard.

Looking over the rail, Gar wonders if its time to go body surfing tonight.

---

Struggling through the crowd, Blue notices the fight still rampaging upstairs. This isn't good, not in the slightest. Watchman knows the plan now. Probably knows what's going to happen. So close to getting Desade out of jail... Not now! But there's always an ace in the hole if you counterfeit your cards right.

"She better be on time or I'll kill her myself." He growls, pushing through several dancers with reckless abandon.

Smashing out of the club's doors, despite the gasps and surprise of the guests still waiting, he frantically looks about the street for a car... that isn't where its supposed to be.

"What's wrong, Blue?" The voice behind Blue sends chills up his spine. Those green eyes shining in the darkness... That's all that's seen. The two guards originally supposed to protect the entrance, they're gone!

_"Its just like before! Just like when he burned down my bar! Those eyes, those hellish eyes of his! What the hell are you, Watchman? You can't be human! No one can be THAT evil!"_

As Gar's approaching form forces Blue back towards the street, a speeding, red car slams its brakes and glides into the space in front of the building.

"Blue!" a feminine voice shouts out, unable to see the person's face.

Door open, Blue flips Gar the bird and dives face-first into the open passenger window. As the car takes off, Gar's smile turns to a growl as it speeds away from him. That close, Blue was that close to being in his grasp again!

Now the game's changed, hasn't it? What will you do now, Blue? Send your dogs against me? All in the name of control through drugs and money? Bring it on you little shit!

"I'll mutilate all of you..."

In the chilly, blustery night, a Watchman watches his target escapes. For the wise old wolf, however, he knows its only a matter of time before the terrified prey makes another mistake. With the others now exiting the building, calling his name, Gar assures himself that the pack will be waiting for that fuck up... A man like Blue doesn't stay lucky for long...

---

A/N2: So Blue escaped, bet you didn't see that coming? How many people outside of major villians escape Gar's wrath? I must admit this was a bit Matrix inspired only in the context of meeting at a club. The "feel" of it all came from listening to Edge of Dawn's "Descent" song.  
Interesting thought though, no? Without Luthor or Darkseid, who really owns the top power of villiany in the US?

Trivia:  
- Matrix references of course due to the group wearing all black.  
- Song being played in the club was "Descent" by Edge of Dawn.  
- "Self-embargo" is both an injoke as well as an eventual plot device for the lack of Batman Rogues in Justice League.  
- Gar's joke about Orgy and Eiffel65 is actually borrowed from Juggernaut Bitch 3. Great video BTW.

Recommended:  
Sleep

Rhetorical:  
Life isn't a game of checkers, its chess. What if Ripper learned a more subtle game? Someone that smart must've read Sun Tzu and Machevelli.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Guten Morgen everyone! Just a quick heads up on this chapter, this chappie is very introspective throughout most of its ranks. Although there is dialogue, yes, its supposed to be an insight into the mind of Garfield Logan... although, for most of it, you could actually call it "Watchman". However, the important part comes at the end. If Blue was a pawn, it looks like a knight just moved onto the table..

**The Watchman II****  
**

---

_"I don't know how he does it. That thick-headed, obsessive jerk bastard. Its five in the morning and he's still not in bed. Then he has the balls to call Batman and Robin paranoid obsessives! It doesn't take a psychic to notice his side of the bed's cold... or that the typing from down the hall's stopped. He stopped typing three hours ago. Haven't heard the door open again since then. I don't know where he went but when he comes back, he ain't coming back into this bed for a long fucking time."_

---

Normally the wind pounds the city pretty hard at night. Of course, with the dawn coming, the wind's starting to lighten up just a little bit with the surf easing a bit from the tides. However, when you're in the middle of Jump City Bay, resting on a little island with a massive "T"-shaped building, it doesn't lend itself to much wind relief.

Trench coat flailing in the wind hard, green glasses look upward towards a room in the Tower, moonlight still in the sky, reflecting off the lens...

_"Room's filled out since she left."_ Indeed, it would appear Gar's assumptions are correct. The once-sparse living area in the Tower seems to have given way to a menagerie of plants, more furniture, and a rather odd assortment of lamps by the kitchen nook. _"Robin's been letting the wife run rampant."_

Changing into the size of an minute amoeba, Gar crosses the nearly microscopic cracks in the glass to enter the room. Without the Titans' restrictions on his abilities, it appears the universe isn't too large or too small for Gar to manipulate. Sniffing the air, he finds the target of his search by the nook. Careful not to make any noise, he cautiously walks over to one of the wooden cabinets, content at the sight awaiting him. Now if he can just find a can opener around here...

"Time to get me a midnight snack... What should I have tonight? Steak sandwich? Side of pork rinds?" The gruff yet humorous voice of Cyborg can be heard talking to himself as he walks through the doorway. Gar, however, continues to feast on his snack.

"Food for thought in exchange for food for the stomach?" Oddly Gar's voice sounds more Watchman than friendly towards his old teammate.

"Gar! Dude, what the hell? How did you sneak in here?!" Panic at first fills Victor Stone's voice but, realizing the hour...

"How? Don't be naive. Not sixteen anymore." Pinto beans would've been better than Garbanzos. Have to make due.

Eyebrow raised at the choice of Gar's midnight snack, Cyborg points out "Dude, you do know you're eating beans, right?"

"Yes."

"I know we don't have no tofu or shit in the fridge but I'll make you something if you want." C'mon Gar, don't be like this tonight. Can't you just be like old times just once?

The metal can clinks hard against the table, the beans emptied in record time. "Not here to catch up. Here for business."

Sigh, heavy with lament, Cy has to accept the facts. Some things change, no matter how much you want them back. "Business, huh? What kind?"

Spinning on his stool towards Cy, still standing by the entrance to the nook, Gar's eyes stare straight into his own. Of course, if those damnable glasses weren't blocking the line of sight.. "White Rabbit."

"Aw man, don't tell me you're after that shit again. Gar, man, that shit's gonna fuck with your head again.." Please not that shit again, not a third time. Wasn't the last time enough?

"Not taking it myself." Gar reminds, voice a bit harsh but still maintaining his restraint. "Spreading like fire throughout the region. People becoming hooked like starved fish seeing lures. What do the Titans know that I should?"

Taking a seat now across from Gar, Cyborg rests his massive arms on the table and remarks "Only the basics, bro. We know what it does to people and that its cheap to buy on the street. Some of the villains we catch talk about it becoming bigger than Cocaine and Weed combined."

Brow furrowing, Gar suggests "Villains talking about it? Any I'd like to meet?"

"Control Freak spoke about it ruining a business downtown. Said he used to get games there but some drug dealers cleaned out the joint. Normally fat fuck doesn't care for people but even he regretted seeing the place trashed."

Standing up, Gar starts to head for the window. "Don't know anything useful then. Mistake coming here."

Bolting up as well, Cyborg pleads "C'mon Gar, don't be like that! You know Robin's policy on drug-related matters." Gar's back stays to his friend even as Cy finishes with "These things are best left to the DEA and the police."

Looking out towards the window, back still to Cy, Gar answers simple and coldly. "Best left to the authorities. Turns a blind eye again to the real problem. Fantasy world even after four years. Embarrassing."

"Now wait a minute, Gar! You didn't even tell me why you wanted to know." Cy counters, tone rising a bit in irritation. Bad enough to be mocked by your old friend but to have your teammates looked down on too.

"Wanted to know if yous ever changed. Looks like I was wrong. Enemy's changed though. Smarter than before, more clever. Sees the big picture while I only see a part of the scheme. Compared to the Titans, though, I might as well have the whole map."

Turning to meet Cy's glare, Gar allows his voice to soften for old time's sake. Removing the glasses, he speaks gently "Its not your fault though, Cy." The sympathetic tone catches the metal man off-balance, his face slackening to an unsure expression. "You guys do the job that I can't do anymore. Yous keep the people hoping for a better future. Keeps them unaware of the real fight and keeps them safe from me." Sighing, Gar admits "I don't know what's happening to me but I wonder if I'm going to be alive long enough to see how this all plays out."

"Gar.."

"Ripper's still out there. He's planning everything as we speak and he's moving the pieces into place. One of the pawns made a move tonight and got away from my grasp. I suspect he'll be coming for me in force soon."

"What are you going to do about it? You told me you weren't allowed to kill." Cyborg reminds though dreading the answer.

Pausing for a moment before returning the glasses to his eyes, the Watchman voice returns in Gar's throat. "Already tried to attack me once. Attack on one is an attack on all of us. What do you do when someone attacks you? Retribution."

Ears twitching, Gar looks to the doorway for a quick second before telling Cy. "Recommend a bowl of cereal for once. Does your body good." And with those words, Gar's body changes into a germ once more, floating through the air and cracks in the window to escape.

Hand outstretched, willing Gar to stop, Cy's caught by surprise when he hears Jinx asks in the doorway what the commotion's about.

Gar flies away towards the city now in the form of a bat.

"Nothing Jinx... Nothing at all."

---

"2:27" reads the clock on the wall of this coffee house. Yellow painted walls hold up the white-domed clock, a severely retro look admittedly but nothing too out of style for the Jump City atmosphere. At this late hour, barely anyone would be sitting at the faded leather booths, no one to keep the tables filled or air alive with conversation. Outside of one odd man in a coat and glasses, only the waitress inside keeps the room from being occupied only by ghosts and oxygen.

Steam rises up from a cup of black coffee, wrapping its wispy hands around Gar's face, trying to lure him to drink like a Siren from a Greek epic. He'll have none of that, however. If Raven couldn't bring him to bed tonight then the wraith inside of a half-cold cup of South America's best won't either.

For the past twenty minutes, the man feared around the city as "Watchman" finds himself staring at a cracked bit of wall on the far side of the cafe'. Ignoring the odd glances by the aging waitress, her apron stained and dusty, Gar finds solace in seeing the blackness inside the crack of the hideous yellow paint.

Dr. Light's reminder from the other day echoes in his mind. _"Not all of us were born from chemical spills or radiation. Some of us are byproducts of the system we're trying to protect."_

Sighing, Gar nods to himself. _"The cycle begins all over again. Without control from the top, there's nothing but anarchy. For now the gates hold but soon the dam will burst. How long before Desade and his gang tear up the streets, looking for his soul? When will Slade stop playing anti-hero and finally start a new war of conquest? When will the League learn that the only way to control this problem isn't by snuffing out the suppliers but by finally playing by the other side's rules? How can they expect him to follow through on the order to stop White Rabbit without letting him make examples of people?"_

"More coffee, hun?" The waitress asks, cigarette on her cracked lips.

"Please."

Admittedly the wraith of the coffee wins this time, the hands snaking his lips towards the coffee for once. Tastes good, the only thing good in this old building.  
_"Blue spoke about divine providence last night... Does that mean Ripper himself ordered Gar to live? What would that accomplish outside of personal gain? Ripper knows the longer he lives, the more power Slade and Desade will have. The more likely Ripper will be overthrown and everything will be a waste. Why? Why keep Watchman alive then through all of this? On top of that, why is Blue following Ripper's order if Desade himself wants revenge on Ripper? Too many questions.. Headache coming.. More sugar in this coffee to help push the blood through the throbbing veins in the temple."_

Tapping the mug a few times, Gar's lips bunch together as though piecing together some vague bits of mental knowledge.  
_"Purple packet of sugar, just like Raven's hair. Raven... She'll be mad again for this. Another night of no sleep, another night away from bed with her. How do you explain it to someone that after three years, you still need to be alone sometimes? When a wolf spends too much time by itself, it becomes crazy. Granted this wolf's been three dimes short of a dollar but if you never had the chance to brood away from the home, you'd go insane. She'll probably tell Huntress again and she'll compare it to Q's sleepless nights. Maybe Doc's the luckiest one of the whole group? No family, no relatives left, no love life.. All that solitude and no one but your job to keep you from just disappearing into the darkness without end. Must be nice."_

Gar leans back into the seat, hands behind his head as he stares at the crack again.

_"More important question though should be the identity of the mystery driver. Someone's helping Blue. Means it has to be someone close to him. Doubt he'd trust someone to snag him up like that if he didn't know them personally. Female voice too. Girlfriend? Doubt it, Blue's too stupid to have a smart girlfriend. Drove like an expert too, strong nerves and fearless. Definitely not Blue's type of girl. Comrade perhaps? Possible bodyguard or even an associate in the Desade gang?"_

Tapping his mug again, Gar moves his head to the quiet tune playing across the radio above his head in the ceiling.

_"Have to find out who then. Can't be ignored whoever it is. They let Blue escape.. not good. Bad mark on my reputation for letting someone get away. Someone has to know who she is. Maybe I should stop being so subtle and start being a little more efficient in my work?"_

"Awfully late for someone your age to be awake, isn't it?"

Turning to meet the voice, Gar's green eyes look up and into the orbs of... wait, there aren't any eyes. Skin-colored mask..

"Needed to clear my mind."

Sliding into the seat across from Gar, Question remarks. "Clearing your head or thinking up a better lie?"

"Know me that well do you?" The coffee calls to the vigilante yet again.

"Know you well enough to realize you're in for an ass whooping when you get home." Speaking of lacking subtlety...

"Either way I end up with a sore ass. Maybe instead of a bullet though I'll only have a boot in my ass instead?"

Folding his hands on the table, Question remarks. "Recommend the boot, less likely to sting longer than a few days."

"But that's not why you're here, is it Q?"

Fedora covering the eye-area, Victor Sage answers that question "No. I imagine your mind must be working overtime on the problem at hand."

"Yeah but its not just on White Rabbit."

"The driver who helped Blue escape?" Question suggests.

"You scare me sometimes how psychic you can be." Gar points out, cup in hand as he takes a sip.

"Not like it wasn't obvious. If you make the connection, you realize that its the only part of the puzzle that's still turned picture-side down."

Tell me something, Question. Did something seem out of place about that whole scenario? Why would Blue give us information when he probably knew we'd retaliate and overpower him? That car had to be waiting for him too."

"Almost like they were waiting for us to arrive." Question suggests, more in thought than anything.

Setting the cup down, Gar reminds him. "Blue's a natural coward, I admit, but he's also dumb as a brick when it comes to the big picture."

"Obvious if he let Slade's team wreck his depot by the docks."

"That's just it. I don't think he wanted to stop Slade from taking out that dock."

Tilting his head, Q asks interested "Why do you propose that?"

"Man like that knows imports are his life-blood. Stockpiles or not, that drug is more valuable than gold right now. I think he wanted to sabotage his own work for some other reason."

Rubbing his chin, Question suggests "Could've caught them unprepared or unready for an attack. However, there is merit to your suggestion. Slade takes out the import facility, the price of the drug increases due to supply and demand."

"More money means more sway over bribed cops and officials."

"Enough to buy amnesty from certain government authorities too. DEA perhaps?"

At the mention of "Government", however, Gar's expression stops cold in its tracks. Face turning pale, his mouth opens but refuses to close.

"What's the matter?"

"Q, I think I just had an epiphany." Gar remarks, finally able to close his jaw shut. "You said more potential to bribe someone in the government. Tell me something, with that kind of money, do you suppose it could buy a certain villain's freedom?"

Snapping his fingers, Q answers with a bit of humor in his voice. "Finally making the connection, aren't you?"

Standing up, adjusting his coat onto his shoulders again, Gar tells his teammate. "We have to warn the League, now! If they get that money to the prison, it'll be too late to stop all of this! Desade can't leave that cell no matter what!"

---

Five in the morning, no typing to be heard in the living room. An empath tries vainly to sleep, missing the warmth of a strong body beside her. Another sleepless night cold, alone.. just like all those days in the tower.

"Raven."

The voice echoes like a gunshot throughout the bedroom, both from its seriousness and its urgent undertones.

"Gar? Where the hell have you been?!" Eyes glaring daggers to be sure, the last thing she wanted to see was him in his Watchman attire this early in the morning.

"Out."

"Out doing what, huh?! Beating down low-lives again, setting people and homes on fire?! WHAT NOW, GAR?"

Voice cold and stoic, Gar answers. "Tried to stop it from happening. Too late. Desade's escaped prison as of four hours ago."

---

A/N2: Aha! So now Jump City's resident Sadist is back out on the loose, swinging chains and all. And what's worse, it seems that the family's on its way to having a reunion. This doesn't bode well for the Watchmen or for Slade's shadowy new group. Three way battle for Jump City, anyone?  
Raven just doesn't like being alone anymore... maybe to the point that she's becoming clingy and afraid of being alone again?

Recommendations:  
Absolute Chillout Summer (Chillout remix CD. Great chill music)  
"German at a Glance", language reference book I picked up for 6 dollars. Very good read.

Rhetorical:  
Wonder if Gar's actions are ever gonna catch up to him? Especially considering how he's actually wanting to break some people to make a difference... He's become a byproduct of his environment it seems (vengeful, full of regrets and sorrows...) How long until he finally kills someone?


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: This chapter came out surprisingly easy.. I just had to think back to some of my... more "fun" days with the ex (or ex's). For some of you, you're probably going to wonder why things are so slow (even by chapter 8).. Well, as per my notes (if you read them), I'm going to allow this story to elaborate. I'm not sticking to simple "10 chapters per arc" for this story, I'm letting it continue until the arc ends correctly, instead of forced. So, while you read this and might think "This is shit Erick'd write back in Chap 3", smack yourself in the face. Erick writes the way he needs to for the story to work, not to make it work for himself.  
Besides, you get to see Question pull one over on Dr. Light for once!

**The Watchman II****  
**

---

"So the tables have turned again." Those words, coming from Question, seem more pained than the usually stoic, neutral conspiracy theorist.

Gathered around the kitchen table at Gar's hideout, five full cups of coffee sit on the table, waiting for their weary owners to consume them.

"I can't believe that sadist got out so easily. Hard to believe someone like him would have the power to bribe the wardens." Huntress remarks, staring at the mug before her.

"Not just the warden either. Guards, security personnel, local area police during the escape. That takes a lot of money to do." Raven admits, hood surprisingly down despite the seriousness of the conversation.

"When I was in the system, the guards alone wouldn't take bribes easy. Unlike the East Coast, the guards out here seem to care." Light motions, sipping on his decaf beverage.

"You implying something, Doc?" Huntress asks, bit of her temper starting to show. The East Coat happens to be home to one of the biggest cities in the world.

"Helena, he was making a valid point." Question reminds, trying to diffuse his girlfriend's temper before it blows.

"Real question is what he plans to do next. Does he try to attack us or does he go after Slade for taking out his port contacts?" Gar asks, frowning heavily with his arms crossed, leaning on the chair. Eyes looking weary, bags forming underneath. Watchman better sleep before he passes out on the way to a job.

"He does want to kill you, that's for sure. Why else would he have his son hire hitmen to shoot at you?" Huntress suggests, ignoring the comment from Light for the moment.

"But judging from Blue's reaction, Slade's attack did more in the moment than Gar has." Raven counters, considering the man's son and his reaction to the news.

"At this point we can't be sure what he'll do next. All we can be sure of is it won't take long for him to do so." Question reminds them, looking up towards the clock on the wall.

"We'll have to be ready for when it comes." Huntress finishes, eyes looking as cold and serious as a graveyard night.

Standing up to stretch, Gar looks somewhat bored at the conversation. Cracking his neck as well as his spine, he reminds them all. "Best thing is to be cool about all of this. At the very least, they'll be gunning for me more so than you guys."

"That supposed to be comforting?" Raven asks, eyebrow raised and frown on her lips.

"No, it's supposed to be lightening. What's one thing I'm good for?" Gar counters, looking back with an equally frowning face.

"Being loud?" Huntress suggests.

"Stealing people's material?" Question chimes.

"Setting people on fire?" Light proposes, rubbing his chin.

"How about all of the above?" Raven admits finally, anger starting to seep into her voice.

"If there's one damn thing I'm good for, its taking the heat while giving everyone else a chance to take the shot. If Desade, Slade, or whoever else comes for my head, it'll save us the time tracking them down." Raven can be bitchy sometimes but that doesn't stop Gar from proving a point.

"So we're just there to keep your ass safe then, is that it?"

Question palms his face with Huntress and Light groan. Of all the times for a lover's spat.

"No, I'm suggesting that it works for advantage to have me as their main target."

Raven rises from her seat, glaring back at Garfield Logan will all the anger of a pissed-off girlfriend. "You're basically saying the same thing. We're just here to stay in the shadows while you run around, dodging bullets, waiting for us to take them out!"

Glaring, Gar asks Raven simply "Why are you making more out of this than what it's supposed to be? I'm trying to make you guys feel better knowing they won't shoot you than.."

"Because you're talking like its perfectly fine if they shoot YOU, that's WHY!"

Black power... Cabinet does slams hard against the wood support. Three heroes notice, two do not.

"Hey, I don't like being shot at! But if they don't fucking shoot at yous, then its a bigger load of my mind!"

Looking up at a green fire in his eyes, Raven hopes her purple ones seem as fearsome as anything he could throw.

Looking down at churning whirlpools of purple rage, Gar pleads with the Gods that his own are starting to make her quit now before he cracks.

"Oh, really? So when you get shot again we'll be there to patch your green ass up again?! First we're nothing but support but now we're your doctor too?!"

Head on her hand, propped up on the table, Huntress remark to Light, bored "You think they'd be through this by now."

"Funny thing is they aren't even married."

"If they even make it that far. At this rate she'll castrate him for saying the wrong thing." Question admits, watching with a certain humor in his tone.

"By the way, do you think we didn't hear about what you did yesterday during your little hunting trip? Lantern sent us a copy of the hospital report this morning!" Raven shouts, standing on her tip-toes to bark in his face.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Gar shouts in defense. "What did I do this time?"

"Don't fucking play ignorant with me you green jackass! That guy Blue hired to kill you! The cops found him this morning burned to a crisp in an alleyway a few blocks from where you were patrolling!"

"You think I did that? You think I'd break my own promise to Lantern and you?" Gar replies, eye twitching a bit at the lack of trust... what is this feeling?

"Well obviously you did! Unless the fucking boogeyman came down and torched his ass, it's exactly your style of revenge. Just like that guy the other night Jinx and I left to you!"

"Why don't you ask Firefly then? He's the one who torched his ass on Slade's own order!" Its one thing to be accused by a stranger.. but to be accused, and called a liar, by someone you consider the closest thing in the world... That's just cold..

Eyes narrowing to dangerous slits, Raven suddenly brings his hand to his face with a loud "smack". Unlike the normally playful ones, this one surprises even the three older adults at the table. Teeth gritting, Raven warns "Firefly... You let that pyromaniac kill someone in front of you. You, the Watchman, the guy I thought was supposed to protect all life, not just good people.. You sat back and WATCHED someone die... and you think your hands are clean, don't you? You think that makes you innocent? You're wrong, Garfield Logan, that makes you just as guilty as that freak!" Tears forming in her eyes now, not caring if anyone can see them. "Gar, why the hell did you do it? I know you didn't care if Firefly killed that man but why would you just throw it all away like that?"

Gar, for the first time in a very long time, simply stares down at his emotionally collapsing girlfriend. No expression on his face, eyes steady and void as stones, he lets her continue to vent.

"You're fucking lucky, you know that? When Lantern asked if you were involved, we all lied about it! We told him it had to be someone else because you would NEVER, EVER let someone die like that, even if you didn't like them! I hope you're happy now, Watchman, because not only did we _support_ you, we fucking took the bullet for you too!"

Silence... so thick you could cut it with a chainsaw and still not get halfway through. So tense you can feel it pressing on your chest, daring you to breathe but knowing if you did, it might kill you. So scary you don't know whether someone might die or whether something special might end...

Green eyes, empty and void, meet puffy, tear-soaked purple ones. Heartbreak, fear... loathing.. a rush of heat in the body. Fight or flight? Battle's lost, she has the high ground and Gar knows it. Can't run, not like this, can't be a coward. Compromise? No, can't compromise either. Sins have been committed. What to do? Too many questions...

But on the other hand, more pressing matters to be taken into account. Despite the growing tension between them, now isn't the time to be having this argument. Now isn't the time when their enemies are growing and the group is at crucial moment in its existence. Fight returns to the Watchman but not in the way the four might expect.

"Raven, what am I?" Gar asks, voice monotone and deathly calm even though the world seems to be spinning.

"What?" Raven whispers, blinking away tears to question his own for her.

"What's the one thing I always deny I am?" Gar asks, a bit more louder than before. Eye twitching again, not good.

"You're not making any sense."

"I'M NOT A HERO!" He finally shouts back, surprising the team altogether. Outside of combat, this is the first time in a long time they've seen him roar apparently. And the first time he's.. "Garfield Logan, the Watchman, you said it yourself once its the SAME person! You think I didn't KNOW that Firefly killing that man was wrong? You think I didn't understand the consequences of my actions?! You still treat me, even now, as though I'm Beast Boy, as that immature little bastard who wouldn't break a rule to save his own life! Take a good, long look at me, Raven, because this is who I am! I can't go back to being that way, not anymore! Not when the people I'm fighting against want to see me and all of you DEAD! I cannot sit back and play the "hero" when they're willing to kill innocent children just to shake me up! I can't just pretend to be a "good guy" when friends and loved ones die because I had to set a "moral example"!"

From his gaze, he can almost feel her tremble. Not from fear.. but from the realization of years of.. it could be denial, could be self-doubt... could be facing the harsh reality of it all.

"We're going to war with a group of psychotic bastards, sadists, and freaks. Do you think that rushing into the fight, striking a pose, and popping a few jokes is going to make everything better?! Wake up, Raven, this is how it really is! And the only reason I didn't kill that _human_ piece of shit is because of that promise I made to the League and to all of you! If I had my choice, I would've used the flamethrower myself, but I didn't! Does that make me just as guilty? Yes. Does that hurt everyone's faith in me? Hell yes. At the end of the day though, would I do it again if it got us closer to ending this stupid feud? You fucking right I would!"

Stunned silence now fills the horrid tension that once filled the room. Dr. Light, his face normally grinning with a sly smile, stars with jaw slack, eyes wide and unsure of what's happening. Huntress, normally one to take a stand against a man yelling at a woman, finds herself holding back, considering who has the right in this argument. Question, however, simply watches with his hands folded under his chin. What happens next, however, doesn't fail to surprise them in the slightest.

Turning his back half-way to the group, Gar looks towards the door. Voice burning with anger still, he warns the four of them. "You thought this was going to be a normal mission, didn't you? Thought we'd sneak in, break a few legs, blow up a warehouse, escape, and get paid.. didn't you? No, this is just the beginning. The real fight starts now."

Walking towards the doorway, Gar sheds the black trench coat now, tossing it onto a hook by the closet.

"Gar..." Raven whispers, almost in a begging voice. Don't go back to that... don't leave us like this..

Opening the closest, Gar fishes something from the darkened racks and hooks.

"You still have that old thing?" Light asks, surprised to see a familiar trench coat return from the grave.

Worn and faded, complete with burn marks and bullet holes, Gar now sports the second-hand, brown trench coat of the early days of his Watchman career.

"I see." Question speaks at last. "You're going to follow this course even if it gets you kicked out of the League?"

Clicking the buttons into place, flipping the collar upward around his neck, Gar's response is bitter at best. "The Watchmen's mandate is to use any means necessary to complete the job. Our current mission is to shut down White Rabbit in this region, saving the rest of the country from an epidemic. I'll finish this mission to the full extent of our mandate, now and in the future."

"Even if it means losing everything you've made for yourself these past four years?!" Huntress shouts, finally voicing her own frustration.

To her surprise, however, Raven cuts her off.

"He's right."

Now the three heroes and rogue vigilante stare at the goth with surprise on their own faces.

"Whether I want to believe it or not..." Her eyes bore straight into Gar's own green ones. "You're right. We have a job to do and we have a duty to complete it."

"Even if it means stepping on some people's fingers?" Gar inquires, testing the limits of her resolve. Love is the most harshest battlefield of all... Woe betide the fool that enters love blindly.

"Even if I have to save a jackass from his own stubborn self." Raven spits back, acidly, but also honestly.

"So where do we begin then?" Light suggests, seizing the chance to break out of the bitter air and into fresher shores.

"We start with the basics. Desade escaped and will be coming back to this city." Question begins, standing up from his own seat. "Plus we also need to find out who picked up Blue last night and where they're hiding. Gar's suggestion that the mystery woman inside might be worth the search is very intriguing."

"What about White Rabbit then?" Light asks, eyebrow raised at the Question.

"The sooner we find where Blue and the mystery woman are, the sooner we shut down that disease once and for all."

"Slade'll be watching us though. Who's going to deal with those four?" Huntress points out. A three-front war is never a good situation, no matter how strong you are.

"I will." Raven announces, voice just as cold as her teenage self once possessed. Eyes level and tacit, she doesn't seem willing to debate any objections. "I want to rip Firefly's head off and feed it to that maniac bastard."

"Under the present circumstances I'd suggest doing so would be a bad idea. We can't afford to blow our cover.."

"I'll go with her."

Light's suggestion startles Question out of his reasoning, as well as Gar's solemn appearance.

"I'll keep an eye on her and make sure nothing, or no one, ends up ripped in half."

"Are you sure?" Raven asks, knowing the two of them haven't exactly gotten along well over the years.

"I'm sure. Plus you'll be needing some help tracking down some of the more elusive villain hotspots. The Titans didn't find all of them... not yet at least."

"Settled then. Gar, what about you?" Huntress asks, looking at the man in brown, waiting for his chance to take the fight back to the enemy.

"I'll take him, Helena." Question offers. "We'll track down the White Rabbit storehouses and prepare for a full-attack later. Are you sure you'll be alright on your own? Desade isn't an easy man to find in this town."

Standing up, the last to do so, Helena eyes her boyfriend with a slight smirk on her face. "I'll be fine. Besides, your protege could use a few words of advice from his boss."

"Better than arguing amongst ourselves in this dark hole." Gar mutters to himself, trying to avoid the comment from Huntress.

"Alright, we'll move out and spread across the city. Keep your earpieces on in case something happens and we need to regroup elsewhere. Lets try not to get ourselves into too much trouble tonight, ok?" Question offers, the five of them nearing the doorway.

"Don't worry, that won't be a problem." Raven warns, voice still cold and uninviting. Lover's spats definitely suck.

"Looking forward to it." Gar speaks to himself, face still looking upset but eyes starting to regain a sense of fire in them.

With Huntress, Raven, and Gar exiting the building, Light holds Q back for a second by the door to ask. "Tell me something, Question. You didn't seem to flinch at all during that little argument between them. Why didn't you try and stop it?"

"Not my place. That and I was counting on Garfield doing what none of us could do for Raven."

"And what's that?" What could he do that none of them could?

Looking away, hiding something under that skin-toned mask. "Make her see the _light_, Doc."

As Question walks up the stairway, he can hear the former mad scientist squeal back "No brownie points for stealing my _brilliant_ humor!"

_"Either he'd make her see the light or she'd kill all of us with a psychic backlash. Both unavoidable... both unstoppable."_

_---_

_A/N2: _Gar and Raven.. hey, lovers of that kind ALWAYS end up fighting. Gar's increasingly violent ways would clash horribly with Raven's sense of preserving life despite being half-evil herself. However, as Gar mentioned, things have changed. You can't be a childish "hero" when the people you're fighting not only see the rules as bullshit, but as something to use against you. Maybe now the Watchmen will live up to the reputation of their namesake and finally bring the war to the enemy.

Rhetorical:  
Even if Gar doesn't die by the time this entire saga ends, do you think him living will be worse than him actually surviving? I stated in Watchman I that I hoped to write the effects of "hero life" on the "heroes".. Looks like being a vigilante might be killing Gar from the inside out... At this rate, he literally will become Punisher or Rorschach, pretending to be Garfield Logan... if he isn't already?

Recommendations:  
Alice in Chains - "Angry Chair"


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Apologies for the wait on this one. Combination of the last 2-3 days have resulted in Erick being VERY over-worked and very, very under-slept. Hell, right now, I'm working on 2 hours of sleep after an exhaustive 40 hours being awake.. But, alas, I said "I owe my guys (and girls) a new chappie"... plus I finally got to include not one, but two of my reviewers into the story.  
Question gets to be a bit mean in this chapter... but not so much because of a bitchy goth.

**The Watchman II****  
**

---

_"In the hollowing wind... Comes a stinging rain."_ For once, the radio in Question's car isn't playing the horrible genre called "Pop" music.

BAM! Right hook sends the drug dealer flying back towards the brick wall. Gar, eyes alight and teeth bared like a hell-hound, it looks more like a beat down than a fight. Holding his ribs and coughing, the dealer holds his hand up, asking for mercy. As Gar approaches, Question remains leaning on the hood of his blue Shelby, arms crossed and letting Gar do his thing.

_"I see the face of fear running scared in the valley below."_ But maybe this music isn't much better for easing a mood, huh?

A smile on Gar's face, not too pleasant either, pulls across his face. "Bullet the blue sky!" Shouting the lyrics, he shoves a boot into the man's face.

Blood pools under the dealer, two teeth missing from his red-stained mouth. With a bad hack, the man of the hour finds himself trying to stay alive in the midst of this ass-whoppin'.

"Getting bored. Time to talk. Where do you get your supply?" Watchman asks, standing over his prey with his hands in his coat pockets. Fraying strings on the inside of the pockets wrapping around fingers, twisting in and out... Memories..

Standing up painfully, the dealer chokes out "C'mon man, you know I.."

""I can't tell you", right?!" Gar shouts, backhanding him across the face. "You know what I KNOW? You don't talk in ten seconds, we go for a drive. Me, him, and you. Only have two seats. You'll have to ride on the hood."

Wiping some more blood from his lips, the dealer shakes his head. "You're bluffing. Watchman or not, you're not that crazy to..."

---

"C'MON MAN! THIS SHIT AIN'T FUNNY! YOU'RE GONNA GET US KILLED!"

The panicked, terrified screams come from the same man, yes, but, as Gar suggested, they are yelled from the hood of the car. Not stationary either. Hard to be stationary when Question has the car running over seventy on a Jump City freeway.

"I'm getting borrrrreeeddd!" Watchman yells in a painfully playful tone. Wind blowing through his hair, threatening to grab his glasses, he looks as manic as a rabid dog out to "visit the farm".

Horns blaring, a semi-trailer is almost run from the road as Question cuts off the driver. Legs dangling, the dealer's torment only increases as they narrowly avoid hitting the divider.

"Look! A cement truck! Lets see if we can ram it?" Gar jokes loud enough for the captive to hear it.

"NO! FUCK THAT! PULL THIS SHIT OVER, I'LL TELL! C'MON, PULL IT OVER ALREADY!"

"Gar?" Question asks suspiciously at the sound of the surrender.

"Yes sir?" Gar replies back, also a bit on the evilly humorous side.

"Do you suppose we've broken him yet?"

"Not sure Q." The smile on Gar's face even sends shivers down Question's spine. "But lets find out." Leaning out of the window, Gar hollers at the man. "HOLD ON! WE'RE GONNA TRY A 360! THIS MIGHT NOT WORK!"

"FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU! I SAID I'LL TALK!!! JUST GET THE FUCK OFF THE ROAD!!"

---

Parks under the highway, grungy and dimly-lit, the interrogation continues anew.

"I got my stuff from a depot out by Dick'a'licks on 20th avenue..."

"Dick'a'licks?" Question asks, voice surprisingly humorous though his prey's face is anything but.

"Its the gay strip joint out by Uncle Buck's, you know the restaurant?"

Gar's foot taps impatiently, waiting for the information he wants despite Q insisting on taking over the interrogation.

"The name sounds very suspicious." Cracking his fists, Q warns "You wouldn't happen to be lying to me, would you?"

"No, I swear, I'm being honest man!"

"Relax Q, he's being honest. From the sight of you I'd say you've been there before." Although his foot is still tapping, Gar does allow a ghost of a smile to cross his expression.

"Still, who would bother naming a place after.."

"Get on with it, Q." Gar snaps, glaring holes at the investigator's eyes.... or at least where they should be.

"20th Avenue, past Dick'a'licks... Who would name a strip joint...?"

"Q!"

"My apologies. And who should we get in contact with at this depot, hmm? I wouldn't imagine that evil bastard Santa Claus has his hand in the drug trade too?"

Bruised and beaten, the dealer still manages to raise an eyebrow of confusion. "Dude? You need to lay off the Rabbit, man."

Garfield keeps tapping his foot but stops as Question lifts the man up by his shirt, slamming him hard against a nearby wall.

"WHO?!"

An impressed whistle echoes behind the two but neither seems to care.

"Its this guy I know! Name's Xavier Knight but everyone calls him "Mr. X"! He owns a storage area off 20th avenue! LET ME GO ALREADY!"

Question's grip lingers for a few more seconds, letting the sweat drip down the forehead of his adversary, mixing with blood and adrenaline.

Walking up to the dealer, Gar's steps are timed with him clapping his hands. Clap..... clap.... clap.

"What the hell do you freaks think you're doing anyway?" The dealer asks, trying to struggle free of Q's grasp. "When Desade finds out.."

"Find out what? He makes this his business. Guess what? His business just became OUR business!"

"When Desade finds out, he'll fuck you up.. Not just him but his kids'll fuck you up too!"

Pause, traffic roars overhead.. For all of the commotion in the world, that little statement seems to have quieted this heated war of words.

"_Kids_?"

Tauntingly, Gar smacks the victim's face a few times. "Blue's weak. Incompetent shithead, couldn't kill a fly even with a flamethrower."

Taking a gasp of air, Q's grip must be stronger than he looks. "What about the daughter then?"

"Daughter? Desade doesn't have a daughter." Question reminds, lifting the man up another three inches.

"Bullshit he don't!" the man curses back. "She's the reason why Blue got away last night!"

"Really?" For all the sense of rage in Gar's voice, there also seems to be a bit of mirth hidden in those fiery depths. "And you would know how?"

"Because she took Mr. X's! Why do you think he's still at the depot?"

Looking at Q, Gar's expression is admittedly conflicted. The truth could reveal not only a vital supply junction but also the missing link in their theory. On the other hand, it could be false information, leading to the likely possibility of an ambush... leading to death. Death doesn't look well on a job application.

---

By the time the pair arrive at the storage area, the sun has already begun its descent towards the Earth. Purple hues fill what red/yellow clouds do not as the sun fades from sight. However, far below the wispy hands of nature stand two men, born and bred to combat the worst humankind has to offer. The storage itself isn't anything out of the ordinary. About thirty container lots, each about the size of a medium-truck, arranged in three rows of ten. To the average eye, this would appear to be as many storage areas held for commercial use throughout the country. Tell that to the man with above-average sight and the man seemingly lacking eyes.

"Do you see that?"

Standing across the street, looking as nonchalant as they can, Gar and Q spy on the sight with their peripheral vision. After all, seeing a man in a brown coat and another in a blue one, this late in Summer, would be very troublesome indeed for the two.

"White mechanical van? Moving out from the center row?" Gar checks.

"That and did you see what's parked in front of it?" Question's voice keeps a slight tinge of humor in it as he searches for someone in particular.

"Red coupe. Just like last night." No humor in that reply, only gruff determination.

"Don't suppose this woman can produce chains from her arms too?"

Rolling his eyes, Gar laments "Another sadist, chain-swinging bitch in the world? Too late to change my job description?"

"Its our mandate, Watchman. Complete the mission at all costs."

"Using my words against me? No brownie points." Figured Question might start talking about this sooner or later... People have bad timing.

"If you're wondering about the timing, you can relax. I won't bother asking why until later on."

"Thank you. Last thing I need to think about is being bitched out again." Settle down, take a breath. Clenching your fist too much might break the holoring...

"How about by a different woman?"

Stopping in their tracks, Gar warns Question "Hey, if you're implying Raven and I should.."

"Not that! Look, woman in black coming out of the center hold!" Question shoots down this argument fast... No time to bitch when your main target comes into view.

Too far away to see much details, other than a female-looking person with jet black hair stretching down her back, they cannot confirm her identity. This doesn't stop Question from snapping a few pictures however.

"I didn't know you still carried film?" Gar remarks, hands in his pockets.

"Have to. Digital cameras are one of the seven reasons for the spread of antiboditic-resistant germs.."

If it had been another person, Gar swears he would've shook his head and walked away... _If_. "And they say I'm crazy."

"You have issues with mutilation and violence. I supposedly have issues with the truth and apophenia. Truce then?" Click, click "Admit you're the crazy one and I'll let you pretend you're not crazy."

"Brownie points for trying but then I'm taking them back for breaking the rules. Something taken means you have to give something up."

Walking down the street again, Question slips the camera into his pocket. This however does not mean his attention from the storage area is detained in the slightest. "What do you propose then?"

"Admit you're a paranoid nutjob that believes in too many conspiracies and.."

"Conspiracy, singular."

".. I'll let you choose the music for the next interrogation?"

The answer doesn't come as a group of armed gunmen come flooding out of the storage area, guns heard clicking into position.

"SHIT!" Gar curses, seeing the men rushing for their position. "That fuckface must've given us up!"

"I thought you said you shut up him!" Question asks, the two of them now in a fierce sprint back towards the parked Shelby.

"Damn it Q! I told you just piercing his lounge wouldn't shut him up!" Gar yells, keeping pace with the blue vigilante.

"Using two claws hardly counts as "piercing". Didn't think they'd understand him on the phone." For once, Gar has a one-up on the old hero. Not to be out-done though "If they catch us, I'm blaming you for all of this."

Finally reaching the car, the two practically dive into the vehicles, gunmen finally coming around the corner as the engine turns on. Sprays of white-hot lead are fired their way but the bullets bounce off the hard steel of the old muscle car. Glass shatters in several places but enough to keep the windshields in place. With a terrific roar, the Shelby comes to speed, Question slamming the pedal and rocketing out from its hiding place. Bullets becoming less frequent behind them, Gar has enough nerve to look out of the window, spying for pursuit cars.

"I think we lost em'" Gar notes, looking out of the tattered remains of the rear window. "They did a number on this car though."

"Then I'll have to repay them in kind." Question answers, anger creeping into his voice. "Shoot first, ask questions later. These people have no sense of decency..."

"Hey man, you ok?" Question doesn't normally get so angry.

Turning sharp, the car's G-force nearly sends Gar flying through the window. "Going to cash in on a favor."

"Hope that favor doesn't end up throwing me out of the window again."

Glaring back, Question warns the vagrant vigilante "It won't. It'll just blow every last one of them to bits before they ever feel the glass."

"Q... you're not serious."

Stomping on the gas pedal, the engine roars its reply, propelling the vehicle faster down the avenue. "Tell the others we won't be home tonight. This is going to take a few hours just to set up."

---

"Got to hand it to you, Q. Of all the places to go for a quick repair job.." Gar's comment would be funny if not for the bored look on his face, hands in his pockets. If only he had a cigarette loosely held in his lips, one might confuse him for Spike Spiegel. Who's to blame him? Outside of the glowing lights emanating from the dusty windows, loud music playing on the other side, this would almost seem like something Q would avoid. Not like you'd see Question at a run-down garage in the middle of the West Coast either.

_"Then again, he IS friends with Someone.."_

"Keep it up and you're walking." Question replies curtly before knocking hard on the garage door.

"If this opens up and there's beer pong going on, I'm out of here."

As the metal sheet opens up, the two are indeed presented to an impressive surprise. Not only is the interior clean and well-kept but the music blasting from the radio isn't that loud.

"Wait.." Gar asks, shaking his hands. "How come when we pulled up, it looked like there was a party going down?"

Standing above Question is a man, fair skinned, with jet-black hair and a loose smile on his lips. Wiping off some grease from his hands with a used rag, the baritone voice responds swiftly "Television upstairs. You don't get out much, do you?"

"Uh-huh.."

"Q, its been too long. Its not like you to come by so late."

"Car trouble. My partner and I got into some business on twentieth avenue and we need a favor." Whatever scorn was in his voice to begin with has faded from the masked man's tone.

"Car trouble? What did you do to my baby girl?" Worry spreading over his face, the mechanic stares in shock at the sight behind the men.

Window pumped full of holes, scratches and even more holes lining the sides and rear of the vehicle. Hell, Q's lucky that the tires weren't blown out despite holes in the hubcabs.

"You said she wouldn't get a scratch!" he whines, looking over the damage like a little child would a priceless, though ruined, toy.

"Tell that to our friends downtown." Question remarks, flipping him the keys.

"Can you fix it?" Gar inquires, folding his arms across his chest.

"Kid, they don't call me Rev for nothing. I'll have this girl ready to purr before the morning. Wish you'd take better care of my vehicles, Q!"

"_Our_ vehicles, Rev. Don't forget you still owe me that one favor. I intend on cashing it in tonight." Moving into the garage, Question motions for Gar to follow.

Yelling out of the window, the mechanic asks "I thought this was the favor?"

"No, this is a thank you gift for that set of tires I borrowed for you from that smuggling operation." Question reminds.

"Ok, ok, I'll give you that one." Car pulling into the garage, door starting to shut behind them, Rev asks instead "So what do you have in mind anyway?"

....

....

...

"WHAT?!!"

---

A/N2: Heheheh.. That took forever to write, stupid fatigueness. The woman in black is waiting it seems. Still though, who knew Desade had a daughter? I'll address the name of the strip joint in a second. Arc ain't gonna be over at chappie 10, I assure you. This will probably stretch 15 chapters for this arc because I wanted to expand on the White Rabbit arc a good while before moving to the next one. Besides, yous know me, arcs usually end with a bang... or at least a good bag over the head with a bag of rocks.

Trivia:  
- U2's "Bullet the Blue Sky" snippeted again  
- "Dick'a'Licks" is part of an on-going gag I have with odd-ball company names.. Just like "Jack's Auto and Furniture Emporium", thus created Dick'a'Licks. I thought it'd be a weird name for a joint... so, why not have it on the West Coast?  
- The mechanic is based off reviewer "Henderra", who's suggestion is intriguing (as you'll see in the next chappie) on the basis of his creation. That and I like the idea of Question being an ass for once, making someone fix his car late at night.

Rhetorical:  
For added inspiration, I bought a Rorschach poster from Spencer's. Hopefully that'll keep me on the ball when it gets time for Gar to pull ol' Inkblot.

Recommendations:  
Within Temptation - Memories


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Back again and now with a fucked up sleep schedule... I should be asleep but I'm not.. Hard to explain, not that you mind.  
As I mentioned to , I think Gar's little speech to Raven might've actually inspired the rest of the Watchmen more than he thought. You'll see what I mean when Question's revenge is shown.

**The Watchman II****  
**

---

For someone so uptight, angry, and often paranoid about the world, Garfield Logan never seems to keep surprising the world. In a house he's never been at, under the roof of someone he doesn't even know, the vagrant vigilante finds himself snoring, looking blissfully into the darkness that is the sleeping world. Sprawled on a couch next to the garage, he seems totally oblivious to the universe in general. Sleep, for some, doesn't come easy... and it hasn't come in almost two and a half days. On the floor next to the couch sits an emptied can of ravioli, fished out with a sauce-stained fork, his battered trench coat serving as his blanket. If it weren't for the fact he's in the superhero business, Gar might actually make a pretty good college student in this city. Only thing is Gar isn't alone in this room.

"Wake up." Question announces, looking down at the sleeping form on the couch.

An even louder snore escapes Gar's throat, bringing the conspiracy theorist to a sigh. Some kids never learn to sleep light these days. Tapping his earpiece, Question asks "Raven, are you there?"

_"Here. What's the matter Question?"_

"Our resident hobo fell asleep here and I can't seem to wake him up. Any suggestions?"

_"How did you get him to sleep? He goes three, four days sometimes without sleeping?"_

Looking around the room, Question notes the sparseness of the room in contrast to the large television across from the couch. "I imagine he must've gotten bored waiting for my favor to be cashed in. I'll fill everyone in on the details later.. if I can wake him up, it'll be faster."

_"(Sigh) Fine. You know he's got great hearing, right?"_

"Brought on from the increased aware of the same effects that gave him his powers and.."

_"Simple yes would do. Anyway, do you have anything that can play music over there?"_

Glancing about the room, he remembered hearing something about a radio being kept inside. Where the hell is it? "Working on that. What then?"

Noise starts to stir from the couch now. First it sounds simply like a whimper... fear... being chased perhaps? Sweat forming on his forehead, trickling down the neck. Nothing too major, perhaps a small nightmare. However, as Question looks around the room, the talking, while muffled, becomes more intense. Names like "Ripper" and "Slade" are tossed about, along with the occasional "Chuck Norris". So much is the groaning that even Question has to peel his sights away.

"I think he's in the middle of a nightmare." he duly informs the goth, tilting his head at the odd appearance of his little friend.

_"Another one?"_

"Appears so. He's talking about Ripper right now and.."

_"RIPPER? Question, wake him up, now! He's reliving that day three years ago!"_

The panic in her voice not-withstanding, Gar suddenly terrifies Question as he leaps from the couch, eyes wide awake in a frenzy, claws extended. Calling the name of his heated rival, he angrily scans the room for this dreamy intruder into his overly vivid mind.

Hands up in defense, Question warns his partner "Gar, calm down! You had a nightmare."

"Ripper... that son of a bitch fuck face..." Breathing hard and fast, gasping for air while his skin tightens under the clammy touch of sweat and shivers. Eyes burning like the gates of Hell, alive and screaming for vengeance.

"WATCHMAN!" Question yells, attempting in some form to regain the boy's senses. "Calm down! That dream's over!"

It takes a few minutes to gather himself but finally Gar looks over at his friend, palming part of his face with his hand. "... Q?"

"Take a breath, Garfield. You had a nightmare. Raven said you were probably reliving that fight.."

"It wasn't the same fight, Q. No, that one I can remember, even in a dream, I know its just replaying. No, this one was much different."

"How so?"

Fists balling tightly, as though replacing his hands with boulders, Gar hisses back in reply "Bastard was taunting me the entire time. Never attacked, never ran, just stood there talking to me. Wanted to kill him, couldn't move. Paralyzed. So close but I couldn't get to him... " frustrated, Gar moves about the room, wanting to hit something but can't. "Its all a bunch of bullshit, Question. He's out there, probably watching over ALL of this, and the only thing we can do it guess where he is.. Hell, all we can REALLY do is guess WHY he's doing all of this!"

Question is about to reply to this small rant before a door opens behind them. Both turning to meet the new entrant, they notice Rev with a tired look on his facial features.

"Its ready if you wanna come out and see it."

---

Later, sun still shining brightly in the September sky, a brown boat of a car, mid eighties model with its angular features, cruises down twentieth avenue. Behind it, a patched up and seemingly innocent-looking blue Shelby follows behind though not far enough to become cut off.

"You sure this is gonna work?" Gar asks, sitting shotgun in the front seat next to Rev.

"Question's behind this. How often does he fuck up?" The coarse reply isn't meant to be as derogatory. Contrary, it sounds light-hearted and almost ironic.

"This is the first time I heard him resorting to this kind of measure though. I mean, yeah, he nearly strangled Luthor to death with a necktie but that didn't involve a car." Gar admits, looking out of the window. "I guess he hated getting the car damaged more than I thought."

"He made me a promise a few years ago to take care of it. Getting shot's one thing but Question doesn't make promises lightly." Rev remarks, tapping the steering wheel as they wait for a green light.

"That man surprises me everyday. Few years ago I found out he had friends in Gotham that ran guns for a living, next I find out he's buddy buddy with a local mechanic."

"No one gives him the credit he deserves." Rev's words hover a bit at the end of the comment, eyes drifting away for a moment.

"Green light.' Gar reminds, hearing the honking behind them.

"Huh? Oh, sorry. Got lost there for a second."

As the car pulls out, Watchman glances over at Rev. Eyes staring ahead, looking as he might after a hard day fighting Ripper or Desade...

"You look like you've seen some shit in your life." Gar points out bluntly, putting his head onto his fist leaning on the door.

"What gives you that impression?" Rev asks, finger double tapping on the wheel while keeping his eyes fixated forward.

"Because you have the same stare I do. Don't tell me its just because you're driving either. Mechanics are good enough behind a wheel they could drive without even opening their eyes."

Glancing over at Watchman, Rev asks "Do you know why Question really came to my garage last night?"

"No. He didn't tell me much about it at all, even this morning."

Clutching the wheel tightly, Rev warns him "He wants to demolish that depot apart."

"Figured that much from the way he was talking yesterday."

Glaring, Rev informs him "Did he tell you that we're both sitting on the demolitions?"

---

_"QUESTION YOU BASTARD!!"_ The screeching voice of Garfield Logan over the earpiece is enough to bring a bemused chuckle from the lips of the Question. Looks like Rev finally spilled the beans about the operation.

"Took you long enough to figure it out." Of course, Gar does have the most horrible timing. That new song Q had been waiting for had just started playing on the radio..

_"You could've at least WARNED me what I was getting into! What if this thing blows and.."_

"Watchman, do you trust me?"

_"Trust you? At this point I'm ready to rip that mask off your face and shove it down your throat!"_

Turning up the music a little louder, Question answers back in jest. "Please. I'd have you begging for mercy before you got close enough to touch me."

_"That can be arranged!"_

"Stick to the plan and you might live enough to find out." No matter how tough he tries to be, he still can be a funny little kid when he's pissed.

---

"So why are you helping us anyway? I imagine its not just because you owe Q a favor?" Gar asks, his rage at Question dying down after awhile. If you're about to go into battle, at least figure out the last few nagging issues before you die, right?

"According to him, we both have something in common. When he told me what we're doing, I didn't even consider it worth cashing in as a favor." Eyes turning dark, eyebrows dropping a bit, lips quivering, Rev finishes. "No, this one's on the house."

"Mutual enemy? White Rabbit you mean?"

Granted a car up ahead is stopping at a red light, Rev does hit the brakes a little harder than necessary. Thanks to the seatbelt, Gar doesn't connect skull-to-dashboard... Almost though.

"Yeah, _White Rabbit_. Tell me something, do you know what that drug can really do?"

"Outside of fucking up your head, making you wanna die, and turning you into a junkie?" Gar offers, not sure how to approach this topic.

"Know what else it does? It takes away a child's parents."

Watchman's own eyes soften as Rev's grows more and more dark, like the inside of Edgar Poe's mind, like the other side of a yin-yang.

"You see, it didn't get my dad first. That's the common belief in this fucking city, that only the guys do it. No, its not just the men, the women do it too. Mom got hooked on it by accident. A "friend" of her's gave her one laced inside of a cupcake during a church function. Guess what? That one cupcake ended up turning to over twenty-five thousand dollars over two years." Gar winces at the thought of that much White Rabbit, especially considering how cheap it sells for, in one person's body. "By the time she... well, by the time her time came, she weighed less than a twelve year old and racked up a debt that dad couldn't afford to pay. White Rabbit wasn't the only bill she racked up, Watchman, she also piled up on the hospital bills to treat it. Medicare isn't cheap in this country, its not like how it used to be for us up in Canada. No, here it costs two arms and a leg... and then they want the other leg."

"You said didn't get your dad first... You mean he's.."

"Oh, it caught up to him just as fast. He never touched the stuff, mind you. No, what caught up to him was the pushers that sold her the drugs. They were owed a LOT of money and dad didn't have the credit or the cash on hand to pay." Silently, a lone tear runs down the cheek of the mechanic. Gar's face also turns to grief, reflecting on the loss of his own parents. "So of course one day I come home from school and what do I find? The American Dream? You know, a loving family and a quiet home? No, I found a dead man I loved as my own flesh and blood with a bullet hole in his head and both of his legs ripped off..."

"So that's why you're helping us turn that place into a crater." Sympathy at this moment seems like it would fall too short of its goal. What's needed now is motivation and reassurance, not lament.

"Crater? When this goes off, they'll be lucky if this thing doesn't take out half the neighborhood."

---

Arriving at the storage area, the blue Shelby parks away from sight to give them some manner of cover. Question offers to linger in the rear, keeping a lookout for any incoming reinforcements once the attack begins. For all intensive purposes, it up to Rev and Gar to set the place ablaze. No pressure.

Pulling up to the entry gate, they're stopped by a pair of odd-looking men. Both with shades but wearing Hawaiian shirts and sneakers, their attempts to blend in fail miserably. Then again, with guns in their back pockets, who needs to blend in? "What are you two here for?"

Rev does the speaking lest Gar kill one of them with his claws. "Dropping off some packages from the big man."

"Desade sent you two down here in this hunk of junk?" One of the men jokes out loud. Gar and Rev force a laugh through barred teeth. Its one thing to laugh at a car... but knowing what this car can REALLY do and not be able to announce it though..

"Recession hit everyone hard. Said if we do this we might be able to move up to a 90's car." Rev jokes, tapping the wheel a bit. "No love for the classics."

"I'm sure. Go on through. Dump the stuff out in the middle shed."

"Thanks man." Rev waves, moving into the storage area with surprisingly little trouble.

"This is strange." Gar mentions as they near the center aisle.

"What's that?"

"Nothing ever goes this easy for me. Call me crazy but they let us in too damn easily."

As per instructed, they pull up to the main shed. Exiting the car, Rev taps on the shed door a few times. Opening up with a quick burst, a man inside with an automatic machine gun waves them in. Rev, all to happy to oblige, gets back into the car and pulls into the building. White Rabbit, bound in giant crates and packages, lines the wide expanse in all areas of the shed. The car's just barely able to fit inside considering all the goods.

The so-called "easy" part of the mission ends, however, as Gar exits the car along with Rev.

"Hey, wait a second, who the fuck are you?"

Looking over at the voice, Gar's annoyance turns to panic as the guard's expression changes to fear.

"YOU'RE THAT FUCKING WATCHMAN GUY! I KNOW THAT LOOK ANYWHERE!"

Gun lifting up to shoot, Gar braces himself for a shot that never comes. In fact, the only gun smoke seen and smelled in this garage comes from a quick-fired shot from Rev's own firearm.

"Whew... good shot." Watchman offers, seeing the man go down in a spray of blood.

"Crazy world we live in. Lets blow this thing before we get those other goons on our ass."

Opening the trunk, Gar whistles again at the size of the "package". Beeping red and white, counting down from ninety, the pair quickly shut the trunk and make haste for the fence leading to the avenue. Surprised at the ease of the mission. Gar almost complains as he doesn't even notice the two gatesmen from earlier running towards the center of the facility. They continue to laugh and joke at their posts while one of their own was killed just seconds prior.

When Rev and Gar finally make it away from the blast range however, Watchman takes out his pair of headphones and plugs it into his one ear.

"What's with the plugs, man? It won't be that loud."

"No," Gar offers. "But sometimes a good show deserves a good soundtrack."

As the bomb counts down from ten, a track from Cowboy Bebop begins to play over the headphones. Children's voices start to sing in a language not known on this Earth. Piano playing whimsically over the vocals, bringing a surreal feeling to the world.

BOOM! The blast begins in earnest, several explosions in the main shed bringing the two guards back to reality. A third blast sends bits of metal roofing material flying high into the sky. There must've been some weapons stored nearby as a secondary blast takes out an adjacent shed, setting off a terrific blast of fire and smoke.... And then the real fun begins. With Gar fluttering his hands around to match the beat of his song, the bomb rips through the complex in four different directions, fire and death trailing it in its wake. Building after building erupts in large fireballs, burning their poisonous substances and dangerous weapons with each lick of flame and concussive force.

"Beautiful, is it not?" Question asks Rev, now joining them from behind.

Gar's hands continue to match the explosion and music in a crazy waltz. Rev looks at the explosion with a smile on his face. Bittersweet irony... the only way to stop this plague is to destroy it down to the last atom.. by any means necessary.

"Yes, it is."

Song starting to wrap up, the explosions die down, leaving an inferno in its wake. If there was any chance of salvaging this place, it'll long be gone after the flames are extinguished. Fire trucks and police sirens are heard in the distance, warning the trio of the necessity of disappearing. Today, the vigilantes seeking to save the world from White Rabbit remain victorious. The only question is how will their adversaries respond?

--

A/N2: Apologies if this isn't "up to Erick standard" again, still feeling the effects of sluggish sleep schedule. There's a reason this place wasn't so heavily guarded, as will be described later. Question will not tolerate having his car shot at! Click, click, boom! But now Gar's got a bit of a problem. Even in his "disguise", he's still recognizable. That brown coat, nothing but trouble!

Trivia:  
- (Forgot to include last chapter). "Mr. X" Xavier Knight (on 20th Ave) is reference to reviewer/reader X Knight. He'll be involved coming soon.  
- Gar must like Chef Boyerdee?  
- "Green Bird" was the song played as the bomb went off. It was either that or "1812 Overture"  
- Question asking "Beautiful, is it not?" is another in-joke at Question being a spoof of V... Goto my deviantart page for a "Q for Question" spoof poster.

Rhetorical:  
- What are the odds of Gar's hideout going "boom" from all of this? hehe.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Sorry for the delay kids and kiddies but, much to your enjoyment, I've finally fleshed out the next few chapters of this story. It'll end this arc around Chappie 15... leading to Arc 2. I like the way this story will fold out. Instead of the usual "Gar fights the next villian for 10 chapters", all the arcs will be pulled together for one, flowing piece. Consequences of actions won't be held to one or two arcs, but will entail the entire series. Oh, a little heads up, the last few paragraphs might screw with your head a bit. Essentially Gar's gonna pull a Rorschach again... tell me if it sounds good or not.

**The Watchman II****  
**

---

Night on the Watchtower is supposed to be a quiet time. Time for rest, time for limited patrols, and a time of gathering one's strength for the coming day ahead. Only insomniacs and those unfortunate enough to have shifts this late are expected to be up.

The Watchmen, however, are neither. Day, night, its all the same when you have to fight a war against those criminals the League considers "out of their jurisdiction".

"So what do we have?" Gar asks, the five of them sitting around the same table in the galley as when the mission was assigned. Unlike the previous time, however, the five of them are the only personnel still active in the dining quarters. Lights dimmed, they are sustained by a holograph generator not too dissimilar to one often seen in Star Wars films.

"While you and Q were blowing up storage sheds, I tracked down Blue's location. The problem was someone must've tipped him off because he left just before I got there. He could be anywhere in the city right now." Huntress begins.

"Possibly heard about the raid on the storage depot. Got jumpy, decided to run just in case someone else hit his apartment?" Light suggests, leaning his chin onto propped-up hands.

"I'd imagine so. That little commotion you brought up has Desade's gang spooked. I haven't seen any dealers on the street since."

"For once the idea to blow up the place wasn't my idea." Gar informs, casually glancing over at the man in the blue coat. "Question has quite the mean streak when you shoot at his car."

"Funny, I didn't hear you object either." Question counters, not upset nor humorous however.

"And any news about the depot itself?" Raven asks, trying to keep things on the ball.

"From what we understand, the place was a supply deposit for White Rabbit shipments. They moved the product in from the harbor then separate it for distribution." Question answers. "There's only one problem however."

"By the time we got the explosives on sight, they managed to move a large amount away. Security was lax, they knew we were coming." Gar finishes for his partner. "This "Mr. X" our informant warned us about must be very clever."

"Besides, I heard we weren't the only ones causing trouble the other night?" Question points out, looking at Raven and Dr. Light.

"You can say that." Raven dryly answers, looking to Light now.

"Yes, we did find some trouble. After I'd spoken to one of my old "evil" friends, we found a lead on Slade's next target. He and his friends took out a freighter coming from South America in Jump City Bay. The police are swarming the sight but one of my friends tells me they think it was another White Rabbit shipment."

"That's Slade's second attack on Desade's shipping plans." Huntress points out. "First it was the shipyard's facilities and now a ship itself."

Leaning back in his chair, though his face doesn't break from a frown, Gar admits "He might be hiding but at least we know what he's up to."

"Cutting off the Desade's lifeblood by crippling his ability to make money. For a former mercenary he's showing surprisingly keen insight into economic warfare."

"You sound almost impressed, Question." Light suggests, a sly smile on his face.

Waving off the comment, Q responds simply "Considering the possibilities aloud. In order to understand our assigned enemy, we must understand his relationship with our other enemy."

"So far it seems he's only keeping four people in his little group." Raven adds. "Firefly, Captain Boomerang, Rouge, and himself. Its a small team but they seem to be meshing very well."

"To be honest, guys, I'm surprised Slade hasn't made a run on Desade himself yet." Gar suggests. "Considering that Desade probably wants him more than us right now.."

"Its all a matter of who he considers his biggest threat." Tapping on the projector, Question summons images of the Watchmen, Slade's group, Jump City, and areas under Desade's control. "As with our own group, Desade is fighting a two-front war. Now that we understand that Desade and his children are working together, that limits our enemies to two selective groups."

Tapping her lip, Raven asks "Children? He has another son?"

"Daughter actually." Gar answers. "We haven't encountered her yet but we saw her at Mr. X's depot. Same car as the one that saved Blue from his nightclub."

"Don't tell me we have another sadist meta human to deal with?" Light asks, almost in a whine.

"Not sure yet. Haven't seen her in action and for all intensive purposes, she might be just another normal human like Blue." Question's comment seems to ease Dr. Light's growing tension.

"Desade's fighting a losing war though at this rate." Huntress points out something on the map. "We've taken out a few of his depots so far, as well as a couple dozen of his own security details. Plus with Blue running scared from his nightclub, that's a blow to their sense of security."

"In effect we're fighting the land war while Slade's taking out the sea lanes?" Gar suggests, playing with his lighter in hand.

"Only a matter of time before we corner him and bring down his empire once and for all." Light confidently answers.

---

While the team discusses the course of their little "war", one of the staffers arrives by the table with a letter in hand. "Excuse me, pardon my interruption. Which one of you is the Watchman?"

Raising his hand with a bored smile, Gar whistles "Yo! Over here. What do ya got for me?"

"We just got a letter forwarded from the Teen Titans. They say its urgent."

Taking the paper in his hand, Gar thanks the man, letting him continue on his way.

"What's Robin have to say now?" Light asks, sneering at a bit.

Paper unfolded, Gar's expression gradually shifts from bored to neutral... and eventually to an eye-twitching, teeth-barring snarl.

"Gar, what's the matter?" Raven asks, both seeming and feeling the change.

"Seems someone doesn't know how to contact me right. This letter was sent to the Titans knowing they'd forward it to me. It seems Mr. X and Blue took the first steps towards signing their death warrants."

"They sent you a death threat?" Huntress suggests, seeing the rage in his eyes.

"No, even better." Sarcasm, no matter how evilly humorous, is still hard to hear. "It seems they're putting a price on my head... just like the last time I fought White Rabbit."

"How much?" Light inquires, curious to see how the world will rank Gar's worth.

"Two hundred and fifty-thousand dollars." He'd crumple the paper if it wasn't for the fact he isn't done with it.

"Quarter of a million? You're moving up in the world." Huntress jokes though more with a mindset to kill the person ordering the hit in the first place.

"That's not all. It seems they're giving first dibs on the bounty to someone from Sacramento."

Four confused expressions meet Gar's angry face.

"They say he was the one who sent it. Hand-written and sealed all proper-like. Besides the letter it gave a list of instructions... and a playing card?"

"Don't tell me Joker's all the way out here.."

"No, its not the Joker." Gar corrects, much to the group's relief. "It had the initials JR written on it with a cross in the middle."

"And the instructions?"

"I'm to meet him at.. the top of the Awakened World? Where the hell is that?"

Typing some details into the holograph projector, Question does a quick search of the name. Light particles dance around the screen, searching for the appropriate information to display. As it moves, Light can't help but smile at the _brilliant_ application of Light before him.

"Got it." Question finally remarks. "Awakened World is the old hippie name for the hotel Marriott in Jump City."

"The same place where the Titans hold their private party on May Day." Raven notes, thinking back to the party where..

"That's really high up for a fight. Are you sure you want to go there?" Huntress asks.

Crumpling the paper in his clawed hand, Gar remarks "One step closer to finding Desade's hideout. If he's willing to bring in freaks from the Capitol, I'm willing to offer him a welcome to Jump with my fist in his head." Growling again, Gar warns them "There's just one problem, guys. According to the letter, he'll only engage me if the rest of the Watchmen remain out of the fight."

"WHAT?" The four exclaim in unison.

"Gar, you're not serious." Raven asks in worry.

Sliding his glasses onto his face, hiding his eyes, Gar answers with a respond fitting for the vocal chords of the reaper himself. "Oh, I'm serious. He wants me one-on-one. Who am I to disappoint?"

---

It might be the last few days of summer in Jump City but that doesn't stop the rainstorms from coming. The driving wind pummeling the street lamps, scattering what few pedestrians are out this late at night, doesn't cease for no force of man or machine. Some cars still driving tonight, with their wipers on full speed, push cautiously through the torrent lest they become another number in the vast statistic that is weather-related accidents. Sharp peels of lightning roar in the skies above, daring any fool brave enough to stand on high to meet their maker by a harsh blast of electricity.

Garfield Logan does not risk that threat tonight... Not when the dimly-lit streets offer more than the domain of two elemental Titans of the raging skies. Brown coat flapping hard in the punishing rain-soaked wind, glasses removed lest they become ruined in the storm, Gar looks like a noir detective straight out of the fifties. Droplets running down his green skin, falling off frowning lips, his mood seems to match the display of mother nature around him. Someone could get hurt tonight... Looking up at the third floor of a brown-bricked building, Gar's frown turns to a sinister smile. Oh yes, someone _could_ get hurt tonight.

---

Dusty room, floorboards a mess... Curtain drawn, no lights in the room to note. A computer lies idle by the back corner of the room, orange light indicating a power saver function is on. Dull humming of heating oil passing through radiator panels on the floor above, must be a thinly built floor upstairs. Whoever built this place needs better locks, someone might burst through. Never would suspect a lowly ant though.

Sleeping form on bed. Red blanket.. Face content, young. Head buried into black pillow... Peaceful dreams or terrific nightmare? No expression on his face sans a slight opening of his mouth. Breathing like air pump gently pushed by four-year old filling new bike tire with air. Hard to imagine this man's wanted throughout the city.

Lift a chair from place next to window. Wood's old, more dust. Tolerable. Place next to bed facing computer screen. Slight stir in the bed, waking up soon. Return glasses to face, don't want him to see what I have in store for him. Look towards the computer, don't want him to feel safe.

"Huh?" Dull whisper from his voice. Sleep won't leave his eyes unless I force it away.

"Nice place. You need to dust more often."

"WHO THE FUCK?!" He screams, jumping away from the intruder. Voice cold but still filled with panic. Amazing what a little surprise can do.

"Old friend of your's. Don't remember me, Red X?"

"W..?! How did you get in here? How the fuck did you find me?!" He reaches for the lamp next to his bed. Bad move.

"No lights." Don't need to see him to know what he's reaching for after all. Ears in the darkness like bat's. "Only questions."

"Dude, you're really fucking creepy, you know that!" Voice still whiny despite age. Voice modulator masks that inner child. Everyone wears masks.. Some work better than others.

"Lucky I don't report your hideout to the Titans. Forgot to warn me you moved. Bad mistake." I can hear him rummaging for something by his desk. Gun perhaps? Tazer? Useless. "Looking to harm me? Kill me? Wouldn't recommend it. Identity would be revealed."

"You really are a sick fuck. I thought you said you weren't going to talk!"

"Didn't. Mailed Robin a letter with identity in it. Only opens it in the likely event I die." Least he knows, better for me. Have a full house, hope he doesn't have a straight.

"Enough with the fucking Rorschach shit, Watchman! What the hell do you want?!" Irritation at me? Bearable. Attitude? Not so much.

"Man's coming for me tomorrow. Goes by the name "JR". Need details on him."

"If you're going to talk, at least turn around and face me!" His pleading is very annoying. Deal with it.

"Answers first. Then we'll talk business."

"Whatever, freak. JR, huh? Heard he's a bounty hunter working out East. They say he's good at what he does."

Rain soaking the window forms patterns of shining mountains in streetlight reflections and dark pools of oceanic abyss.

"Obvious. Wouldn't come after me if he were as weak as this city's villains. What else?"

"They say he likes poker cards. Last guy he went after ended up with an unnatural fear of Ace cards."

Hmm, intriguing. Poker cards, fear of Aces, capable of creating fear.. Scarecrow with Gambit tendencies? Not likely, would've heard of him. Need more answers.

"Style of attack seems unorthodox. Can work with that. You're not telling me about the man however. Tell me about JR himself."

"Man, I don't know about him personally. Never met the guy before."

"Lying. Smell the sweat off your brow. Not from wet dream either. Stalling too. Don't appreciate it."

"Hey, you wanna call me a liar, that's fine! I only know what I know and that's it!" Maybe he has a point. Didn't deny the wet dream comment. Filth.

Stand up from the dusty chair, looking out of the window. Don't care if X shoots me, aim's horrible. Could kill him with my front fangs only if necessary. Quick, painless, another dead heap in the midst of blood-soaked sewers. No one would care. No one would cry.

"You're not just here for answers, are you?" Kid might be an idiot but he has his moments.

"No. Need a favor before I leave."

"Fuck you and your favors! Last time I did you a favor, I nearly got killed looking for some maniac.."

Turn to him, eyes feeling like fire. Lightning flash, good timing. Red X recoils in shock at the sight of me. This man who hides behind a mask sees my true face. He fears me. Fears what I can do. Fear's what I've done... Fears what I might become?

"And that maniac is still out there. Not dealing with him tonight. You have a message to deliver for me."

"Scary-ass sombitch! You've really lost it, haven't you? You look like you haven't slept in a month!"

Judgement about my appearance? From him? Laughable. No laughing tonight. Joyful banter is for Question and me. Red X? Another waste of life. Use him up before I throw him to the other wolves.

Holding up paper, I toss it at his bed. "Take this letter to Titans Tower. Security system is weak, easy for someone to break in. Leave note at the bedroom at the end of the hall."

"And what the fuck do I get out of this little FedEx job?!"

Green Lantern's promise echoes in mind. No killing.... Hard to follow, want to resist.

"Saw plan for robbery on your wall. Suit needs fuel to continue running. Titans would catch you if they knew what you were doing."

"Blackmailing me, dog?" Spit all you want. Might be a dog, that makes you dog shit.

"Deliver the message, might turn a blind eye to plans. Robin may remain in the dark. Red X fuels his suit for another few weeks."

"_Might_? How do I know you'll keep your mouth shut, Justice Leaguer?!" Sticks and stones won't break these bones. But fire will burn his...

Walk out of the room, not looking back. Looking back like looking at the past. Don't envy past enemies and past fun with Titans. Only the future matters. "Don't deliver it, I'll nail your mouth shut." Nearing the exit of room, remind him with small trace of humor. "Next time at the store, buy beans. I get hungry." Stare through green lens, watch him squirm under gaze. "I'll be watching."

---

Twenty minutes later the rain doesn't subside at all. Standing in the pouring rain, clap soaked through the interior, dripping onto ever-growing puddles of rain below, Watchman doesn't move. Looking at the house he'd previously broken into, he waits for a sign unspoken from the building. Said sign appears after a few more minutes of waiting as the black/red form of Red X crawls out from the fire escape. Looking around for any sign of trouble, he quickly bounds off down the rooftops, hopefully on his way to Titans Tower.

Watchman simply turns his back to the building, walking away towards the crossroads in the distance, hands in his pockets and head tilted down. Not looking forward to returning home it seems. Another night alone in bed might make Raven twice as bitchy as before...

--

A/N2: I like writing Gar like this. Instead of the groupie that he has to be in the League, he's much more dark, much more in your face without being in your face. A man that knows how to employ one group of filth against another, like the government letting the Crips and Bloods fight it out so they don't have to clear them out, smart vigilante!

Trivia  
- Awakened World makes another appearance, the hotel being famous for the place where Gar/Raven finally kissed in Watchman I. Of course, also a reference to my all-time favorite screen name (reviewer of my stories of course), "Awakened Mind".  
- "JR" will be eloborated in Chapter 12. You'll like him, I hope.  
- Not so much "trivia" but a nice in-joke. Despite X being out of costume, still can't tell who he is since you couldn't see some identifying features. Take THAT!

Rhetorical:  
Just like the Russians of World War II, how long can Slade "help" the Watchmen before he turns his attention to war against them?

Recommended song:  
Massive Attack - "Teardrop"


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: Two chapters, one night, my perspective! This chapter only came out so damn fast because, like always, I enjoy writing high-intensity chapters more than exposition. This chapter is an example of why I like writing. The perceptions, the planning, the execution.. all of it in split seconds. Clashes of personality, fists, and sweat.. Its all a symphony of chaos, war... and surprises!  
Show your love!

**The Watchman II****  
**

---

"Gar, don't do this. It's probably an ambush!" Raven's words, no matter how matter times he hears them, won't steer him away from this goal.

Standing outside of the Marriott, Gar looks up to the top where the flower children gazed in awe. The red letters refract light from the rising sun, obviously from the remaining bits of rain now gone, vanished from the state.

"Have to, Rae. Its either that or they'll come after all of us. Besides, I'm not THAT fragile." Some humor to ease the mood. If only things worked that easy.

"That's not the point and you know it! You don't even know what this guy's capable of."

Turning to Raven now, Gar places his hands on her shoulder. Through a gasp on her part, Gar leans in to meet her eyes with his own. "Rae, please. I know what you're thinking and no, I'm not doing this because I'm an idiot. I'm not doing this to shield you guys either. There's somethings in life we have to do alone."

Eyes full of worry, replacing any sense of irritation that might have been present, Raven finds herself asking. "Why are you saying things like that? You never talk like that before a fight."

Releasing her now, he turns towards the doors of the hotel. Back to her, Gar replies "I don't know. Maybe a fleeting sense of whimsy? Maybe reassurance? All I know is that if I don't do this now, it'll feel like I'm running." Glancing back at her, Raven inwards shivers at the sight in his eyes. Burning with fire once more, he warns her. "Garfield Logan won't run from a fight. Not when its the key we need to stop Desade once and for all."

---

Some time later, Gar slips underneath the locked door leading to the roof. As with last night, ants make great means to getting past nosy guards, locked doors, or annoying security alarms. Reforming to his normal self in the steps leading to the roof, he returns his hands to his pockets. Eyeglasses on, reflecting the greenish-white lights illuminating the pale-gray hallway, he looks stoic and ready for whatever might present itself. Lock broken on the door leading to the roof, Gar allows a small sliver of a smile to cross his face. Whoever's waiting for him at least had the decency to save him the trouble of breaking the door down.

Outside, under the beautiful blue sky, dotted with puffs of white clouds speeding through the air, the city seems to gleam like a white pearl under the rays. In the distance, towering buildings sparkle just as pretty as the blue hills across the bay in the distance. A helicopter, bearing the name of the Jump City News, races by on its way to report some unseen happening. Not that it matters to the one wearing the green glasses. No, all that matters is the mass of human flesh standing across the roof with his back to him. Shining much brighter in the summer light than the buildings around him, the white trench coat of "JR" seems like an angelic beacon that betrays the man's obvious intent. Looking towards the bay, he doesn't seem to notice Gar's arrival. Watchman will have to rectify that. Stepping across the expanse, feeling as wide and foreboding as the frozen steppes of Russia, Gar keeps his hands in his pockets but legs ready to throw himself out of the way of any sudden thrust by this "JR".

"Beautiful day, isn't it?" The voice, gruff with age but also retaining a sense of wonder at the sky. He doesn't turn to meet Gar but doesn't seem to be ignoring him now either.

"Beauty can hide an ugly side." Watchman announces, stopping about thirty paces away from "JR".

"Quite right." Turning to meet Gar now, he slides his wire-framed glasses into his coat pocket, black gloves covering his hands. Frame tall, well built, he's easily large enough to match both Cyborg and Gar both eye to eye and probably muscle to muscle. Hair naturally spiked though short and brown, he looks remarkably unremarkable.. Those types tend to be the most dangerous however.  
Greeting Watchman with a smile, eyes closed, he nods his head. "How accurate that is."

Folding his own glasses into his jacket, Gar nods back. "JR I presume... just to be on the safe side."

"Yes." Folding his arm across his chest and bowing, he announces with a smile still on his face. "My name is Jonathan James William Reilly..." touching the cross at the end of a necklace, dangling in the air, he adds "but, I confess, some people have taken to call me "The Baptist"."

"John the Baptist, huh? A little arrogant naming yourself after a biblical figure?" Gar suggests, eyebrow raised.

Leaning up, JR chuckles a bit. "On the contrary I didn't choose the name. People only started calling me that because I'm obligated."

"Obligated to do what?"

"Offer a prayer for your soul before I dispatch it to hell. You understand its only proper that I do so." Although the smile stays on the coarse, five o'clock shadow face of JR, it starts to lose its genuine feeling. Dipping into a more predatory feel, its eerily reminiscent of Gar's own.

That very smile spreads across Watchman's now as he cracks his knuckles. "A prayer? It seems to suit you. But I don't think I'll be needing it. I don't plan on dying today."

Snapping his finger, a playing card appears in JR's fingertips on his right hand. "Arrogance or confidence? Its hard to tell with you, Watchman. None the less, its tradition you see. Call me old fashioned but a man like me doesn't enjoy breaking promises lightly." Bowing his head, he prepares to speak.

"I'm old-fashioned myself. So how about before we begin, we make a deal right now?"  
Looking back up, JR's right eyebrow raises. "Oh? And what might that be?"  
Eyes boring into JR's brown ones, Gar answers simply "You win this contest, you get your prize and my life. I win, you tell me where Desade and his kids are holed up."  
"Mixing business with personal matters? A bit dangerous, isn't it?" JR offers though smirking at the prospect.  
"Isn't that what the job's all about?"  
"You have a point there, Watchman. So be it! Your life vs. my information. Now, if you excuse me, the Lord is waiting."

With a humorous snort, Gar offers "Fine, be my guest. Don't be mad though if I don't pay attention."

"Lord, I ask ye for Your forgiveness for this blind man's soul."  
Gar's smile turns dark, anticipation building to a crescendo.  
"He who is about to depart to be in Your divine presence, though sinner he be, will repent for his sins lest he burn in the fiery pits of Hell."  
JR's smile also turns manic, feeling the adrenalin begin to pump in his veins.  
"Show him the divine grace and love You so generously bestow apon thee."  
Glancing up now, eyes wide and proud, JR pulls back the hand with the playing card. Gar's stance loosens, ready to spring into battle at the drop of a dime.  
"AMEN!!!"

---

Gar blinks at the shout, stalling him long enough to narrowly avoid getting his head cut off by a small playing card. Emphasizing almost is an understatement as Gar notices the card that missed his head ends up tearing a bit of concrete off the wall behind him.

"What the?" Smile removed, he contemplates what the hell...

"KEEP YOUR EYES ON THE BAPTIST, WATCHMAN!!"

Turning, Gar flips backwards just in time to avoid a swipe of two playing cards in JR's hands, cutting the air he once stood in.

"Sharpened blades designed to appear like playing cards? Interesting." Landing several feet away, Gar raises his hand in a defense. "I thought the church looked down on vices like gambling?"

"Only the Lord has no vices, Watchman. Even I'm guilty of the pleasure of card games and gambling. Only problem is I need to gamble with blood and souls to keep gambling on cards and money!"

Three cards are thrown at Watchman now, his body contorting into a bird's shape to avoid the triangle-formation as it slices through the air. Back into a human again, Gar lands and stares in disbelief as it tears through the door, ripping it off the hinges.

"Oh, did I mention these aren't just throw away blades?" Forming three triangles with his fingers, eyes looking through the center, Baptist warns. "They're also quite persistent!"

Whistling behind him, Gar looks up as the three jet up from the stairwell and come screaming at him with incredible speed. Unable to change in time, he manages to dodge the first one, twist out of the way of the second one, but finds himself cut across the face by the third one.

"Ah! I see the first drops of blood have stained the floor we stand on! Don't tell me you're losing your speed already, Watchman!" JR taunts as the cards land back between his fingers.

Holding his face, Gar stares angrily back at the man tormenting him. "Curious little cards you have there, Baptist. Did your God create them or are they a left-over from Cadmus?"

Flapping the three of them back and forth in his hands, Baptist jokes "Quite serious, aren't you Watchman? These cards weren't made by the Lord but, if need be, they'll be used in his judgement."

"Leave it to Desade to hire a certified nutcase to kill me. Couldn't even do it on his own." Gar mutters, wiping away some more blood from his cheek.

Halting the cards for a moment, Baptist blurs his hands about for a moment as four cards find their way into his hands, two in each. "Now now, Watchman. Not all of us work for people for love or kindness. Some of us only look at this as a job and you know it. I have no love for Desade but if he keeps business moving then I'm willing to accept some dirty work."

"So I was wrong.. You're no chaplain, you're a damn mercenary!"

"A warrior by any other name!" Baptist warns, throwing the four cards at Gar's head. Forming four squares with his hands now, JR anticipates the strike.

Gar, however, takes a breath and he focuses on the man trying to kill him. Animal reflexes helping, he takes a quick look at the Baptist. Something seems strange about his movements, his motions. Unlike others he's fought, he doesn't seem to want to attack him head on. He lets his cards do the work.. How can cards move on their own like that?

Dive, hop, snake (literally), leap, each attempt at avoiding the cards seems to make them even more persistent. Slicing at him, cutting bits of coat cloth and skin, they are relentless in their search for his head or his heart. Kicking them only results in bits of leather being sliced away, futile action at best. At this point, it seems all Gar can do is evade them and pray he's fast enough to avoid them. Pray... the irony of that.

Cards returning to Baptist's hands, the older man taunts the bleeding Garfield Logan. "What's the matter, Watchman? You're not as spry as they claimed you were. Granted you've been avoiding my cards superbly but surely there is much MORE you can be doing."

Gasping for breath, Gar takes a good, hard look at JR. Focusing his eyes on the man, he looks for a weakness, ANYTHING to get an upper-hand in this fight.

_"Wait for it. He'll add another card soon enough. Five cards, I don't know if I can avoid them all. Keep your eye on him. SOMETHING's controlling them. They can't just be flying on their own, can they? Psychic? Magic? What the hell is this guy?"_

"You could always surrender now and let Desade kill you? I really detest murder but if you don't cooperate.."

_"He's feeling pretty good right now. Thinks he has me on the ropes. Thinks he can win. Am I going to let him? No. No surrender. No compromise. Not now, NOT EVER."_

"I'm losing my patience, Mr. Watchman." A fifth card slides into his hand from his coat sleeve in a flash, three of them positioned between his fingers like one of Wolverine's claws.

_"There's the fifth card. Now or never. He thinks I'm going to avoid them.. One more card to kill me. Make the connection... Wait, what's that?!"_

All five cards sticking outward, Baptist lifts his hands between his forehead and Gar's position. However, its not the cards that attracts his attention, its the sight before him. It seems Raven's training is starting to pay off...

In his animal senses, he can see between Baptist's gloved thumbs what appears to be a strong "force" on his forehead. Not sure the real term for it, Gar could swear it would look like a third eye. Third eye? That means he's..?

"Time's up, Watchman! You had four of a kind.. NOW TRY A FULL HOUSE!"

_"DO IT!"_

As the cards are thrown, spiraling like a bullet towards Gar's head, the Watchman leaps forward. Changing into a simple fly, he narrowly avoids being carved up by the playing cards. Returning to normal form, landing in a forward roll, he bounds towards the Baptist with all the rage of Hell in his face.

"WHAT?!" JR shouts, twisting his hands and recalling the cards his way.

The move comes to late, however, as Gar flips his body onto Baptist like a certain green Street Fighter, laying into JR's forehead with several devastation punches.

"Die, you fucking psychic shit!" Watchman howls, throwing his entire force at the admittedly thick skull of the Baptist.

Collapsing to the ground, Gar leaps off the falling body of JR, sighing with relief as he sees the cards tumble to the ground.

Turning away from the Baptist, catching his breath, he's caught off-guard by the sound of laughing. Looking back, he sees JR laughing on the floor, staring up at the sky with delight.

"What's so damn funny?'

"You, Watchman. I haven't had someone clever enough to figure out my little gift from God in some time. Tell me, how did you know my third eye was open?"

Spitting blood from his mouth, Gar points out. "Living with a psychic has its advantages. That and the way you use your mind to control those cards gave it away."

More laughing. "Wait, you thought I used my third eye to move those cards?"

Small confidence turning to growing concern, Gar questions that statement "What's that supposed to mean?"

Slapping the ground hard, Baptist leaps into the air, landing hard on the ground on one knee. "Simple! It means you fucked up! The eye only gives me insight where to aim the cards." Snapping his fingers, the five cards originally lying dead on the ground suddenly rocket from the ground, aiming at Gar's body. "ITS THESE DIVINE HANDS THAT MOVE THEM!"

Unable to evade in time, Gar's body is impaled by the deadly instruments of death. Two embed into his shoulders, two more into his arms, and the final one landing in his chest opposite the side his heart is contained in. Howling in pain isn't even an option, the burning sensations surges through his veins, cutting off the air necessary for screams. Seething, gritting his teeth to bare the pain, he drops to a knee of his own.

_"No.. Can't give up now.. No surrender.. No compromise... Hurts so bad... Blood... Tastes like copper, ain't that the truth?"_

Looking up, Gar sees Baptist preparing another round of cards in his hands. Only problem is he can barely make out the figure, the image is too blurry.

"Lord, through your grace, I bestow apon this boy the last rites entitled to him by Your mercy. Take care of this soul, blind as he is, for he will soon be in the light of Your divine providence..."

Blood-filled eyes, Gar looks at the man looming no further than ten feet away, eight cards in hand and ready to finish the job.

"To the valley of Kings and Queens you depart, Watchman.. AMEN!"

However, before the cards can kill Garfield Logan off once and for all, they are encased in a black flame, burning them asunder.

"WHAT?"

Seeing the cards catch fire, Gar finally smiles, falling over and passing out.. Though his vision is gone, the fiery words of an extraordinarily pissed off goth rings in his ears. Behind her are the feelings of a group of others, ranging from older adults to younger ones. It seems Baptist isn't the only gambler here.. And it looks like this one might've ended in a push instead of a loss...

---

A/N2: And so Gar survives to live another day, though I'm sure even he'll be hurting after this one. Looks like Raven couldn't stick to the deal but I doubt anything would've been able to stop her at that point. But I wonder who else joined the fun? I hope you like the Baptist though, considering its semi-based on a real person I know. Funny guy, a bit depressive at times, but knows an ass-load of card tricks.

Trvia:  
- Yes, I was also semi-inspired by Anderson from "Hellsing", as far as the character of Baptist goes, along with "Dandy Man". However, the idea of "Psychic-fueled playing cards" is my idea. The concept that spiritual power could be channeled through gloves is interesting to me, to say the least.  
- Valley of Kings, reference to Egypt of course. 4 Kings, 4 Queens... hey, Four Queens! Whiskey!... ugh, memories.  
- "Push instead of a loss", reference to keeping your money if you "push" in Blackjack.

Rhetorical:  
I was SOOOO going to do something else with Gar at the end, but I'm saving that little surprise for the end of the Arc!

Recommendations:  
Hellsing Soundtrack 1 and 2. GOOD Music.


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: Remember... what the doormouse said... FEED YOUR HEAD!  
Oh, sorry, forgot, we're live on the air! Anyway, this chapter might seem like its useless at first... but wait til the end! This arc has 2-3 chapters left in it.. But that doesn't mean once the arc's over, its over and we start over like a fresh page on a typerwriter! No no no.. It just means the attention will be shifted to something in the waiting. Where the hell is Ripper when you need him? I miss ol' corpse face, teeth clacking and tormenting Garfield with images of corporeal death!

**The Watchman II****  
**

---

_A sea of stars... just like Dante would've seen after exiting Inferno.. Stretching on for all eternity, to the ends of the known universe and even farther beyond that. The seemingly cold blackness feels rather comforting, warm even. Didn't know there was a breeze in space? Heh, actually feels kinda nice.. Warm wind blowing between fingertips, ruffling through green locks of hair. Could this be.... paradise?_

_"Garfield..."_

_A voice? So far away, can't make it out. Who else would be floating in space but me?_

_"Garrrrfield."_

_Go away, whoever you are. Don't care if you can sing like that! Can't a guy rest in peace? Look, a comet! Hehe, little bits of fluff coming off the comet! Whee!_

_"Look at you."_

_Ok, now THAT voice didn't sound sing-songy. Comet fades into the distance, stars starting to disappear en masse'. What's going on?_

_"What's going on? What the hell do you think's going on?!"_

_What's with the attitude? That first voice was so calming.. almost like..?_

_"Gar, she's dead. Get over it!"_

_WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK..._

_Green face appearing in the fading sea of stars, short hair matching cold, green eyes._

_No... not you... NOT YOU!_

_"Oh yes, its me... Watchman!"_

_NO! IT CAN'T BE YOU!_

_"Don't you recognize me?"_

_Purple highlights, round belt, gloves and boots... fangy grin... that grin wasn't like that years ago though._

_"You should recognize me. How could you forget Beast Boy?"_

_Need to run, need to flee... This can't be real. This has to be a dream. This HAS to be! Shit, BB's chasing me! That pathetic, worthless ghost is actually following me! GO AWAY! WHY WON'T YOU JUST DIE?!_

_"You can't run away forever, Watchman!" BB's voice fades into the blackness, trailing behind a rushing expanse of universe. "YOU CAN'T RUN FOREVER!"_

....

---

"NO!"

In an excited hysteria from his dream, Garfield Logan bursts upward from the couch in his living room, landing on his feet, eyes darting about the room. Shirt gone, replaced with bandages and gauze, he could almost past for a mummy. Breathing heavily is an understatement, it looks as though he's ready to blow a lung at a moment's notice. Eyes wide, pupils short, can't catch precious air in the lungs with a wide mouth like that!

"Where... where am I?"

And then the pain sets in. Falling back down on the couch, cursing out the shards of pain coursing through his limbs and chest, he howls in anguish at the ceiling. Cursing God, the Devil, Desade, Ripper, and even the guy who didn't put tabs on his can of beans, he vents his rage through pain-induced screams.

"That's what you get." Raven's cold voice, piercing the ever-darkening room with her deadpan, cool voice. "You should've known better than to stress yourself like that."

"Fucking hell, Rae! What the hell happened to me?" Letting the pain run its course without the use of screaming might be better for conversation than without.

"What happened? You got torn up by that bounty hunter, just like I said you would. When we found you, there were five poker cards embedded in your arms and chest. You should be glad he got the wrong side of your chest or you might've died."

"Then why does it hurt so fucking much? These look like they've been sewn shut rather than.."

"Healed with my psychic powers? You're right, I didn't." Glaring at Gar, she steps nearer to the couch. "You know why? Besides the fact I warned you this would happen, it's those cards he was using. They're interfering with my healing spells. The wounds wouldn't close whenever I'd try it. Question and Huntress had to patch you up the old-fashioned way."

Leaning back into the pillow on the couch, he hisses as the pain continues to soak through his pores. "Damn its been so long since I've had stitches too. Next time I see that prick I'm gonna shove those cards down his fucking throat."

"By the way, Gar, you weren't the only one who got hurt during that fight."

Glancing towards Raven, Gar notices several cuts along her own face and hands. Gasping a bit, he realizes something all-together important as well.

"Rae, how bad did he..?"

"Question got one across the face, tore his mask up. Light got one in the shoulder just like you. The one of my face was one I got trying to get you out of there."

Her glare is stronger than ever, ready to drive stakes into his own wounds. Perhaps this time he's deserving of a proper bitch out...

"I could've sworn I smelled someone else there too."

Sitting at the end of the couch, Raven remarks "Your little insurance policy I take it? Cyborg and Jinx told me they got a letter in the mail the night before your duel with Baptist."

Despite the pain, Gar allows himself a quiet snicker. "Looks like Red X came through for me."

Sighing, Raven admits to herself. "You're never going to change, are you?"

Smile fading, Gar inquires. "Why do you say that?"

Looking away from him, she wonders aloud. "Gar, you nearly got killed yesterday by a certified madman. Another few minutes and you would've lost too much blood to save you... And for what? He got away, we didn't find out where Desade is, and we're practically back to square one." Turning to meet his own eyes, she reminds him "And now you're confirming that you used Red X to get the Titans to help without even telling me they'd be involved."

"Rae, if I told you, you would've tried to stop him earlier. I needed to lure him in so we could all spring the trap. Yes, I admit, I was beaten bad. Hell, I didn't think this guy could be that bad and you know what, I was wrong." Her purple eyes stare into his own, unreadable and her hand untouchable at this point. "We make mistakes, we learn from them, and we move on."

"You did make a mistake. You could've trusted me enough to work with you on this plan. Yes, I would've been nervous, but not fucking terrified when I saw your broken body up there!"

"C'mon Rae, I do trust you!"

Clarity starts to return to those eyes of her's... Problem is its not happy clarity.

"You trusted me enough to tell me AFTER the fact! You didn't tell me BEFORE, once again, you did it AFTER! Plus you think it doesn't hurt just a little bit that the person you trusted to pull this off was _her_?"

Green eyes starting to turn dark as well, Gar's brow furrows as he replies "_Her_? Excuse me, Raven, but I asked for both Jinx AND Cyborg, not only her! They're the only two people I can trust on that team to help!"

"Convenient choices with Cyborg and the witch, Garfield."

Bitterness is expected but not at the expense of a lack of faith.

"And what the hell is that supposed to mean?!"

Through great strain, Gar rises to his feet to match a suddenly standing Raven. Holding his shoulder, he matches her icy glare in his own turbulent, chilling stare.

"You think I haven't noticed how often she appears around you, Gar? Ever since you left the Titans, she's been hanging around you and staring at you like a big piece of meat!"

"You implying I'm doing something behind your back, is that it?"

"I don't know, why don't you tell me?!" Stepping closer, she looks up into his own orbs, willing the building energies inside her to remain at bay... Damn its so hard though..

"What's REALLY bothering you, Raven? Hmm? You've been bitching me out for almost a week now! What the hell's going on with YOU for once?! I'm ALWAYS the fuck up, aren't I? Well tell me what the fuck's pissing YOU off for real!"

"YOU!" She screams in his face, eyes starting to turn a tinge of red but fighting desperately to keep human in appearance.

"And what about ME then, huh? C'mon Rae, quit stalling and just tell me already!"

"You don't fucking take care of yourself, you always think you're the tough guy and fight everything by yourself, you don't trust any of us to help you. You obviously trust the same people you cursed out when you left the Titans more than you trust me! Gar, you don't give a shit about us anymore, do you?!"

Deathly calm at that statement. Fire in his eyes returning to embers, as though the icy wind had blown away all fuel from the flames... well, enough to smolder the fire for now at least.

"What you're really telling me, Rae, is you don't give a shit about us anymore. Aren't you?"

Recoiling a bit from his sudden 180-turn in attitude, not to mention the tables being turned, Raven fucks up by glancing away for a quick second.

"I didn't say that, Gar!"

"No, you did. You gave it away in the words you used. I don't have to be a psychic to tell when someone's taking out frustrations on me." His sharp, cutting words, delivered so stoic and calm, feel like the reaper's spiny fingers reaching out for her heart. "Its a habit you never learned how to get rid of. You did it to me all the time when we were on the Titans. You'd be angry about something and you'd take it out on me by yelling at me, hitting me, throwing me out windows... The only problem is now you're using mistakes I make on the job and using it against me as well as your own aggravations."

"Now you're psychoanalyzing _me?_" Probably not the best idea to pick the mind of someone who's always one step closer to the taking the plunge into eternal rage..

"Why not? You do it to me everyday. You already accused me of being an empty-headed, mindless, cheating asshole with no regard for you or anyone else but myself. It takes two to tango, Raven."

Eyes blazing red now, finally ready to snap, Raven screams back into his own face. "YOU REALLY THINK YOU KNOW ME, _WATCHMAN_?! YOU THINK YOU KNOW HOW MY MIND REALLY WORKS?!"

Placid, peaceful as water just about to fall over the edge of a great, large waterfall, Gar replies. "Do you really know how mine works?"

Reaching up to slap his face, begging to knock what little sense he has in his head back into sanity, she hisses. "I know how your mind works, Garfield! It's the same as you were as a teenager, only now you're a little bit stronger and a bit taller. You still complain, still joke, still think simple-minded... Everything on impulse, never thinking about consequences. You're still nothing more than Beast Bo..."

Eyes blazing green, matching her own red-filled sockets, this time Gar does the roaring. Unlike with Raven's usual display of red-eyed madness, where people have seen her go berserk before, this time Gar scares even her. Backing away from him, her rage vanishes as her jaw drops open only slightly, eyes wide like a wounded animal staring down the maul of a vast, terrifying hell-beast.

"YOU THINK I'M STILL BEAST BOY! I WAS FUCKING RIGHT, ALL THIS TIME, YOU STILL THINK I'M THAT DREADFUL LITTLE SHIT?! YOU STILL THINK I'M THAT LOWLY CREATURE.. THAT... _HUMAN_?!"Hair, the normally inviting green forests adorning his head and face, whirl about in a dizzying dance as his voice howls with a pounding bass, eyes solid green and scintillating. "FOUR YEARS, RAVEN, I'VE HAD TO CARRY ON THIS FIGHT! ALONE FOR A GODDAMN YEAR, LEFT TO MY OWN, I HELPED BRING SOME FORM OF STABLITY TO THIS CITY! YOU THINK I DID THAT ON IMPULSE? YOU THINK I DID THAT BECAUSE I DIDN'T THINK OF THE CONSEQUENCES?!! YOU THINK YOU KNOW _ME_.. DID YOU EVER KNOW ME AT ALL?!

Raven takes another step back... this isn't Garfield Logan.. this isn't even Watchman anymore. Fangs protruding, eyes burning with emerald fire, veins bulging across his body. This looks like the Beast but much, much more savage and horrific. Is this what keeps the Watchman going?

But as quick as it appears, Gar's body returns back to its normal state. Eyes fading to simple irises, hair settling at his shoulders, he seems so peacefully calm again... seems.

Turning away, he asks "You think I don't have any trust in you, Rae? How am I supposed to have trust in you when you won't even trust me?"

---

Later, despite an all-pervasive tension in the hideout, Gar finds himself at the computer console, lights off and a cup of coffee at his side. Leaning his head on his hand, he grits his teeth to ignore the pain while watching the incoming data-links from the Watchtower. Information relating to "John the Baptist", "Desade", and "White Rabbit" filters into his own systems, each waiting to be reviewed and stored somewhere on his drive. Of course, his thoughts at the moment dwell on a certain goth who, after the argument, needed "to take a walk" and left for destination unknown. Though some things might never change... sometimes other things might... and do.

Just when the Watchmen are ready to find the last link with Desade too. Baptist making his move means Desade's on the ropes. No man would offer a hit this late in the game unless Gar and the others were ready to uncover the truth. That connection's easy enough for even a fifth grader to figure out. Slade's attacks must be having an effect.. plus with the ongoing war against the dealers and the depots in the city... Back a man into a corner, what will he do? Problem is.. just what _will_ Desade do? And why did she have to bring ALL of this bullshit out NOW?

Beep beep beep.

"Hmm?"

On the screen, not counting the data-link with the League, an icon indicating an inboxed Email for him appears.

"Who the hell has my email account?"

Tapping on the icon, Gar waits as the connection is established. Sipping his coffee, shaking his thoughts away from Raven for a moment as his interest is peaked, he watches at the page loads.

"Who the hell is Gforce Member 45?" Eye twitching, Gar checks for viruses. Thankfully Gizmo's work on these old computers years ago have kept their virus checkers up to date.

_"I'll have to keep from breaking his other hand for that. I owe Cue Ball that much."_

As the details load, however, Gar's amusement turns to a devious smile.

---

_"To: The Watchman  
From: Gforce Member 45__  
Subject: How ya doin', chum?  
Body: "Hello there, ol' Watchy! Do you know who this is? I imagine you don't, guessing from that awkward stare on your face! Not much time to chatter but the boss wants to meet ya tomorrow down by the docks. Says its time we had a meet... all of us.. Bring your Watchmen if you'd like but there ain't gonna be no fireworks, that's for sure. Be at Warehouse 46 by sundown or I'll make sure your ass gets buzzed flat by one of my boomerangs! Later mate!"_

---

Finishing his coffee with one giant gulp, Gar, for the first time since meeting Baptist, allows a smile to enter his face. "Crazy ass Aussie bastard. And they say I'M the cocky sonofabitch in this town?"

Pressing a few buttons on the console, the telecom center sends out messages to the other members of the team. Within moments, Gar has their attention on their earpieces, three of them sounding neutral and one sounding pissed off. At the news of the meeting between Slade's group and the Watchmen, however, the team's spirits seem to rise. One thing's for sure, whatever trouble Gar and Raven might be having at the moment might just be settled tomorrow.. Be it by guns, flamethrowers, or a psychic blast strong enough to level half the city.

All in a day's work for the Watchman.

---

A/N2: Yes, Raven is bitchy for a reason! Despite how much you fangirls love Gar, imagine if you had to live with him everyday, his moodiness, getting hurt all the time, rage, psychotic Rorschach moments, etc... You'd be pissy too! Besides... its a plot point that'll be addressed for a reason.  
Still though... blaming Gar of seeing Jinx behind her back? Interesting... find the connection...  
Speaking of connection.. it looks like Gar has a third appearance that hasn't been seen before? Hehehe....

Trivia:  
- "Gforce member 45" is lifted from the reviewer of the same name. Long overdue, hard name to use though. I imagine Boomerang must have a half-dozen aliases, who'd look for a Boomerang guy with a forum name?  
- "Cue Ball", another reference to Never Fear and Watchman... Poor Gizmo.. I wonder when he'll show up?

Rhetorical:  
I can't help but wonder something... If Gar's capable of turning into hordes of flies and locusts in the comics, with the ability to talk, does that make him an Animal Elemental like Terra was an Earth Elemental?

Recommended:  
"The Essence of Zen".. good quote book.


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: Part I of the Arc's finale begins! And no, its not gonna be a "one chapter fight then epilogue" chappie like yous are used to. In this chapter, there will be introductions and there will be revelations. Also, don't be surprised if someone's about to get hurt. I'd like to blame you, the reader, for inspiring me to create such evil people.... And especially Tru-Damon, for letting Someone continue to run amok in Gotham City without trying to stop him! BAD DAMON!

**The Watchman II****  
**

---

"I don't like this." Huntress remarks as the car packed with heroes arrives at the dock area the next evening. Sun casting an orange glow as it nears the edge of the waves, current smashing against the shoreline not far away. Even though the birds above the now-parked car chatter happily away, the humans below are a different story.

"We have them out-numbered five to four. If they try anything, we have the advantage." Dr. Light is spot on, as usual.

Piling out of the car, the five stretch a moment before entering the dock-area warehouse section. Slade could've chosen a better place to hold a hideout, couldn't he?

"Yeah but they have the home field advantage here. That counts as their fifth man." Gar reminds, snapping the purple buttons of the black coat back together. Just because its Septemeber doesn't mean the Pacific is any warmer this time of year. And that breeze can chill the bones pretty quick for the unprepared.

"Despite that, I don't think they'll be inclined for an ambush this early in the game." Question remarks, passing by the first few buildings, gloved hands in his pockets. "It seems they have bigger problems than ourselves at the moment."

"Well that brightens up my day." Four individual glares reach out for the doctor in the black suit, his expression sliding to a grin while waving in defense. "Couldn't resist."

"Try harder." The biting reply by Raven is sharper than usual. A quick glance reveals her attention being forced away from Gar's direction for obvious reasons.

---

"This is it: Warehouse 46." Gar points out, a blocky "46" written on the side of the building in white, faded paint. The windows, as they were three years ago, are dusty and blacked out. No light reflects through and barely any light enters either. Foreboding? Yes. Smart move entering? No. Is it worth the risk though? Oh hell yes.

The sound of footfalls behind them attracts their attention. Energies, both light and dark, claws, crossbows, fists, all turn to meet this threat.

Hands raised, Boomerang uneasily replies "Hey, hey! Don't shoot the messenger, kiddies! Just here to make sure you wasn't followed is all!"

Their weapons, however, do not lower.

"Where are the others?" Gar asks, claws glistening in the summer sunset.

"Relax, mate. They're inside waiting for you. I got the short straw, had to be the door man is all! Please, put down ya weapons already. You lot might give me a bloomin' heartattack or something!"

Reluctantly, pain-stakingly, they oblige, lowering their weapons but most assuredly not their guard. Friendly request or not, this man is the very breed they're sworn to contain.

---

Inside, the room is even dirtier and dustier than the last time Gar was in here. However, at least this time they have the decency to light the whole building rather than one cheesy, ominous spotlight in the center of the room. At the end of the expanse stand the other three of Boomerang's group, arrayed in a line, watching the Watchmen like animals waiting to pounce. In Gar's head, however, they just appear the same way too from across the way. After all, things haven't exactly been the happiest in their group lately. The last thing any of them wanted to see on this beautiful day were the not-so-beautiful figures waiting to kill them at the drop of a hat.

"Glad you could make it." The ultra-fine voice of Slade echoes in the room, projecting his godly voice to every corner of the building and into the very hearts of the Watchmen.

"This better be good, monster." Gar spits out, the others with equally acidic expressions on their faces.

"I see some old habits never change. Glad to see that actually, it just might keep you alive."

"If you're planning on trying something here today, you got another thing coming." Huntress remarks, tapping the stock of her crossbow with her hand.

"Actually," Rouge's thick, swaggering French accent remarks "we would not waste the time to invite you should we decide to kill you. There are more important things to do than simple chores such as those."

"Truce then for the rest of the discussion?" Question offers, trying to maintain some form of neutrality here. Ironic considering the mindset of the man doing the speaking.

"Unfortunately yes. I think you'll agree we have bigger problems to worry about?" Slade reminds, gesturing to a few chairs off by the side.

Taking their seats, the four villains take their own seats across from the Watchmen. No sense standing, posing the entire time, for a discussion that won't end in violence... Maybe?

"I take it you've heard about the bounty on your head, Watchman?" Slade asks, hands folded together.

"Oh, more than heard about, Slade. Thanks to that sadist freak, I have a few reminders of it already." Normally Gar might emphasize this by showing the scars but for safety reasons, best to keep your enemies in the dark.

"Told you the Baptist was in town." Firefly mutters, arms crossed and looking up at the ceiling in boredom. Things are only interesting when they're heating up.

Eyes narrowing, Raven asks "So you knew that freak was coming and you didn't stop him?"

"For what reason, little girl?" Rouge counters. "If he had disposed of your little boyfriend, it would have made our job so much easier."

Light, surprisingly, holds a hand out to keep Raven in check. "The villain community usually hears about movements like this before the rest of the hero world. How they use it is entirely up to them."

"Spoken like a true turncoat, Doctor." Slade remarks, eye narrowing at Light.

"You're one to talk already, Slade." Gar reminds, eyes safely hidden behind green lens, reflecting orange in the sunlight. "After Desade's out of the picture, you'll be there to take the bounty."

"Clever little boy, isn't he?" Rouge remarks casually, crossed legs and with the same cross-armed look as the annoyed Firefly beside her.

"Shame he had to be one of the good blokes, eh?" Boomerang adds in on the joke, laughing over towards Rouge himself next to Slade.

"Yes, he might've made an _excellent_ bad boy to work with."

Face unwavering, Gar reply comes back hard, fast like a sniper's bullet. "Don't play with whores, remember?"

Laugh turning to a growl, Rouge warns him "Brave talk from a child barely old enough to purchase his own alcohol!"

Something's trigger in Gar, however. The sight of her face compounded by the situation seems to bring back a VERY bad habit of Gar's.

"Not enough in the world to make me work on you. Slade, however, must like his little toy."

"What did you say?" The one-eyed supervillain hisses through the metal plate of his mask.

"Gar, stop it." Huntress and Question warn, realizing he's about to..

"Tired of back and forth. Time for answers. Stalling, hero-villain banter... annoying."

"Aww hell, he's going inkblot again." Boomerang mutters, palming his face with a sigh.

"Last few weeks you've turned Desade's shipments into wrecks. Shipping sunk. Depots destroyed. Convoys pillaged. Why? What motive?"

"The same thing you want, Watchman." Slade answers chillingly. "Only I'm not going after the brain, I'm going after his lifeline."

"Keeps the paychecks coming too. You don't know how much fun it is setting ships on fire." Firefly adds.

"Could've warned us sooner. Wasted time with low-life dealers, small-time bars and clubs. Desade fears me more than you. Why? You're not an anti-hero type either. Your group's just as bad as he is." Standing up under protest from the others, Gar faces down the four villains in front of him. "Power struggle for control of Jump's underworld?"

"He's getting paranoid again, isn't he? Want me to set him straight?" Firefly offers, raising his gun.

"Mess with fire, insect, and you'll be burned yourself." Light warns, raising his own hand at the pyromaniac.

"Hey now everyone, take it easy. This is hardly the time for.." Boomerang tries to ease the mood. A clever fighter, yes.. but there's a time and place for such nonsense.

"No, Watchman's right! Why the hell HAVE you been helping us?" Huntress speaks up, ignoring Boomerang's plea for peace. The black-haired Italian's patience is nearing an end.

Standing up as well, Firefly reminds them "You're in our house now, assholes. Sit back down or we'll burn you down."

Light and Raven stand up, their own powers coming into play. Raven clears her throat "Want to repeat that?"

First Rouge, then Slade, then Question all take their stands and face each other across the divide. Gar's handiwork speaks for itself again.

"You are being most ungrateful guests, Watchmen." Rouge remarks, hands turning to claws on their own accord.

"Hosts don't beat around the bush like the four of you." Question remarks, flexing his fingers in his martial arts defense.

"This sure ain't gonna end well.." Boomerang mutters though still searching for his own boomerang.

As the argument progresses, one thing is for sure: Someone's gonna get hurt if this keeps up. Between four very dangerous villains and five equally threatening heroes, this keg's about to explode at even the smallest spark. Funny that spark doesn't come from any of those nine gathered...

---

Bursting with a sickening snap, the front door to the warehouse splinters into thousands of pieces. Their war of words abandoned, the nine turn in surprise at the exit. Their surprise is justified by the arrival of a new man to the party.

"Alas the good Lord has led me to the den of the Dragon himself. Praise His name now, ye devils, and prepare yourself for His divine judgement!"

"Who the hell is.." Firefly begins before he finds his flame thrower cut in half by a poker card slashing by him.

Standing tall and proud, cards arranged throughout his fingers, John the Baptist stands posed, ready for a fight. Watchman, however, steps away from the group and towards his enemy.

"Come to finish what we started, you freak?" Malice drips off every syliable, a testament to JR's ruthless pounding the other afternoon.

"I'm glad you survived, Watchman. I would have felt horrible not being able to preside over your funeral. Now I can rectify that."

"Not this time, bastard." Raven hisses, taking up a position next to Gar with her hands spread out.

Surprisingly, Boomerang and Rouge take positions beside them. Eventually, the others find themselves creating a wall with Garfield and Raven as the center anchors.

"Hmm, I see.. So Desade's estimate was right after all. Slade's little band of outlaws have joined up with the vigilantes to take out his empire. I suppose therefore its only proper I offer ALL of you a prayer before your deaths."

"Actually, I have one for you, Baptist!" Gar growls, voice spiking louder than normal.  
"I'm sure you would, Watchman. But I don't think the good Father would enjoy hearing you slander His words with your ignorant, filthy words!"

Slade moves to the front along with Watchman, staring down this intruder with his own form of hate buring in his solo eye. "Why did Desade send you here? You can't beat all of us by yourself, no matter how much we despize each other."

Coat flapping from the breeze entering the building, cards held up to his face, the iconic pose of the Baptist is one that'll be burned into their memory. "_Send me_? Excuse me, Deathstroke, but I came here of my own volition. I cannot rest now until I complete my agreement with Desade to bring that boy in. Not only does my own bank account warrant it but so does my own personal pride."

"Well I hope your pride hurts as bad as your body's going to feel tomorrow morning! We're not letting you get Watchman without a fight." Huntress warns, crossbow aimed at his chest.

"Go home and tell your master that his time is nearly up." Rouge warns, claws ready to extend at the intruder. "We will be coming for him very soon."

---

"You know lying is a sin, Baptist. Even if its only a white lie."

Surprises abound in this old warehouse it seems. The nine faces stare in awe as, from behind Baptist, appear four more forms in the entrance way. To Baptist's sides first appear a man in a white suit, very similar to Dr. Light's own, except it's sleves are cut off at the elbows. Wielding a pair of long blades, attached at the forearms, the man crosses them in an "X" shape. Hair like snow with eyes to match, his face retains the chill of the arctic in the muscles as well. No expression, no interest.. nothing?

To Baptist's right stands Blue, two guns trained on them with a cocky smile on his face. The gaudy blue suit still wrapping around his slender frame, Blue seems out of place for the moment.

Finally, taking their place in front of Baptist, are two other arrivals.

A woman, black hair reaching down her lower back, also covering her face to the tops of her eyes, stares with a bemused expression on her face. Outside of the red eyeliner, she might pass for a normal woman, though clad in a form-fitting, curvacious black leather piece. Around her shoulders a small red coat rests on her shoulders, barely reaching to her mid-torso. Licking her fingers, she seems to fit her a certain man's sense of fun.

Especially considering the man in question is standing next to her. Chains already wrapping around his own arms, Desade has a cigar in his mouth, biker skully on his head, and black shades to match.

"Desade..." Gar whispers, for once caught off guard by the size of the opposition. The hits just keep on coming.

"Oh I've missed this!" Desade announces, shuddering in delight at the spectacle unfolding. "All this anticipation, all this anger, all this desire to create havoc and destruction. I think I'm getting a bit excited myself!"

"Fucking sadist bastard!" Gar curses back, disgusted as the older man seems to be enjoying this little showdown. All this hassle from White Rabbit and the man behind it all stands smiling, proud of being back in the saddle of a fight.

"You just never get tired of saying that, do you?" Desade asks, smile crossing his face even farther. "How long until you start going monotone on me as well?"

"How about you deal with _this_?" Huntress declares, firing a shot from her crossbow.

Desade simply smiles as the projectile comes speeding towards his face. Mere inches before contact, however, the woman beside him reaches out and catches the arrow in mid-flight.

"How the in world did she..?" Light asks, mouth agape.

"Good timing as always, Red." Desade praises, winking at her with a side glance.

"No problem, dad."

Taking a step away from the other eight, Gar crosses the gap until he's in the middle of the entire gathering.

"So Blue had a sister he forgot to tell me about. Red... ironic."

Crushing the arrow in her hand, she straightens her hand out, forming a blade-like protrustion from each finger.

"Seems you have your father's metahuman genes too. Blue, you must be so disappointed."

"Shut your mouth, Watchman!"

"No, let him talk Blue." Red offers, voice mysterious with a tinge of evil to it. "Its the last day he'll be able to speak in his life."

"If you excuse me, Mr. Desade, but I have something I must do before we kill these heathens." Baptist requests, stepping up to the forefront with Red and Gar.

"By all means, Mr. Reily. I wouldn't want to kill these fools without it." Desade admits, dropping the remnants of the cigar to ground, stomping it out.

Huddled together, ready to strike, the eight prepare to attack. Red holds her blade-like fingers together like a Swiss Army Knife, ready to strike. Behind her, Desade's gang also readies itself for what will surely be a bloodbath indeed. As the Baptist begins to pray, Gar finds himself smiling, although just a little bit. This is going to hurt tomorrow morning..

"Lord, you lead us to the den of the Dragon, armed with the blessed weapons You bestowed upon us. Blessed be the ones who silence these dirty creatures and return them to the bottomless pits of Hell. Forgive them for their blindness. Caress them in their deaths. Show them the light You have shown me." Looking at Watchman now, smiling turning sadistic, Baptist warns loudly. "God has judged your soul, Watchman, and has ruled you guilty! Now delay no further and embark now to the bottomless abyss of hell!"

..

---

A/N2: And the fight begins anew! Desade's gang is present, the Watchmen are ready, and it looks like Slade's group, for the moment, will be working against Desade. The beauty of all of this isn't the fact there's a three-way war for dominance... its that, in the end, Ripper's out there probably enjoying this. How, as often in life, ironic is it that the man destined for power often doesn't need to raise his finger? Heheh..

Trivia:  
- Mr. X finally makes his arrival in this story. Again, based off x-knight20 (reviewer). This is only the introduction chapter so don't bedamn me for not being more descriptive with his persona.  
- "Red" is finally revealed.. Based on a character by FantasyMind93, my longest-tenured reviewer. I don't wanna give shit away but this woman's gonna be a headache down the road, especially for a certain female-attracting inkblot-like vigilante...

Rhetorical:  
Who would've thought Boomerang would've become the "Beast Boy" or the "Dr. Light" or Slade's group?

Recommendations:  
A Fistful of Dollars... Clint Eastwood was badass before Chuck Norris knew what badass even meant.


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: Finally the glitch is gone... bout damn time too, this was written days ago and I couldn't upload it. Most of you will probably hate how this arc ends, simply because its not ending the way you want it to. Hell, most of you will probably hate the swerve it takes too... But, if you look deep into it, you'll realize its for a purpose. Afterall, for this story to continue (and it almost got the plug pulled), it needed a hard look at itself.  
Bah, anyway, enjoy.

**The Watchman II****  
**

---

_"Wish I could feel like that for once."_

Blue, tranquil, not a care in the world, the world spins and Garfield Logan is but the observer. Though storms rattle the green and brown landscapes, and shadow envelopes the planet's surface, it still looks so serene and blissful.

Not like the numerous scars and slashes across his frame. Some covered in wraps, others light enough to be left untreated. Eyes staring hard at the planet floating below, he gazes silently, hardly an expression on his well-worn face. Just like the planet below, however, the placidness is offset by a deeper, hidden truth..

---

_Dodging the cards was easy enough. For his vaunted aim, it seems Baptist wasn't only aiming for Watchman's flesh. Some of them pass by him, aiming at his allies and begrudgingly bitter "associates". Outside of a near-hit on Question, they're equally as lucky as Gar finds himself. That gesture alone sets the powderkeg in motion. Within seconds, five vigilantes and four villains find themselves charging into the smaller, though equally dangerous, "Desade Gang"._

_Blue takes the first shots, bullets bouncing off a pair of defensive screens from Dr. Light and Raven. This sets up Mr. X, leaping into the battle and crashing down on Slade's bo-staff. _

_Growling, Boomerang unleashes a duo of his own boomerangs at Mr. X, hoping to catch him off-guard. No dice as the Australian instruments of destruction run afoul of a pair of pocket 5's. Cards slicing through the explosives, they're instantly set ablaze before it can throw Mr. X away. As Rouge snaps her extended arm forward to grab X, he pivots on his heel and slashes through her palm with all the excitement of an empty room. Her shrill, howling scream of pain registers across the room, Slade returning the gesture with an attempted thrust at the assailant's face. His opponent's other arm simply deflects the blade away, muted eyes matching Slade's screaming one._

_Blue's guns spark in open defiance though the shells seem to bounce harmlessly off Dr. Light and Raven's screens. Of course, there's one thing they don't consider. While they're busy keeping Blue from shooting Question or Huntress, they're effectively drawn out of the fight against the Baptist. For his lack of super-powers, he's wisely making use of his human abilities._

_Laughing happily, the Baptist twirls and spins, throwing cards by the handful at Watchman, Question, and Huntress. They streak past, narrowly avoiding their targets by mere inches, some even ripping shreds of Q and Gar's coats away. With each toss, the holyman seems to laugh even more, directing the shots with his hands, making Huntress use up more and more of her limited amount of arrows. For Watchman, however, the bigger problem is the sight beyond the Baptist._

_Desade and Red are standing away from the contest, allowing the other three to continue their job unimpeded. With Baptist throwing cards like a man possessed, keeping most of the group at bay, and Mr. X busily distracting Slade's group, there seems to be no reason to join in the fray. Smile still on his aged lips, Desade seems ecstatic at the view before him. Nine of the "best" in the hero/villain community before him and not one of them can break through to reach him. If only things had been like this three years ago, he surely never would've suffered defeat at HIS_ _hands..._

_"Baptist!" Desade calls out to the man enthralled, his deck-dealing uninterrupted. "Its been too long since Mr. Watchman and I have spoken. Let him go, I think he's getting a bit upset."_

_Red smiles a bit, licking her teeth at the thought of the coming fight._

_"Are you sure, sir? The boy's quite a clever one after all." Baptist's words, though coming with mirth, seems to indicate a tiny hit of concern. Gar nearly had him beat on top of the hotel of course._

_"Oh yes, I'm sure. The others are simply a nuisance anyway." Smile vanishing like a spectre, the sadist warns. "I want no interruptions. Keep those other shits out of this, got it?"_

_Taking two handfuls of cards between his fingers, Baptist smiles, eyes wide and manic. "I got you, Desade." Facing the three before him, he warns. "HAVE A STRAIGHT FLUSH, YOU BASTARDS!"_

---

"Excuse me, Watchman?" A female voice asks quietly, barely shaking him from his fixation. "Green Lantern will see you now."

Looking back at the woman, eyes looking at his battle scars like a frightened child, Gar manages the smallest of smiles to ease her anxiety. "Thank you."

Following her through the dimly-lit hallway, Gar finds himself back at the familiar doorway of the League's resident "Marine": Green Lantern. How lucky is he?

Stepping inside, behind a simple desk with a chair before it, Watchman can't help but wonder if he's back in the principal's office again.

"I heard about your report to Superman." Lantern points out, busy looking over some details on a holographic computer screen. Eyes burning brightly green, opposite to Gar's own dimly lit ones, the old marine looks less than thrilled about this.

"I wanted the League to understand how I felt." Gar answers, forsaking the Rorschach voice for the sake of understanding. There's a time for psychological issues and..

"How you felt? That's a polite way of putting it." John Stewart's reply, though snapped back a bit, is reserved for the time being.

Nodding slightly, Gar admits "I didn't come to the decision lightly."

"Did you consult your teammates or did you just blurt it out like always?" Screen turning off, the Corp member's attention is fully fixated on Gar now. Lucky Gar.

"The issue's been a major dividing factor in the team for awhile now, sir. To bring it up in assembly would.."

"Still, its a pretty big issue to consider. Are you sure she'll go through with it?" Lantern inquires, recalling the suggestion in the report.

For once, Gar's head bows away from a person's stare, despite his urges to the contrary. "Considering the other issue in the report, she'll either go through with it or end up leaving."

Sighing, Lantern finds himself in agreement. "You have a point, Watchman. Still, its your relationship to consider..."

"I know that. But, on the other hand, its either my happiness or the world's safety."

Surprisingly cautious, Lantern warns "It could also cost you your sanity."

Returning his forest eyes back to the glowing orbs of the elder hero, Gar suggests "I either lose it willingly or I lose it at the wrong time and end up hurting her."

"You mean because of what happened with Desade?"

---

_"Come on Watchman! You have to do better than that!" Desade taunts, each of Gar's claws missing their mark by more than six inches away. Even with the last beams of light from the sun on their backs, Gar's attempts seem to inspire nothing but dark hopelessness in his efforts. In the distance, Red watches anxiously, arms folded and a wry smile on her face. Creepy, that one is.. Desade, however, simply leaps about the outside of the warehouse area, hands blocking some thrusts in defensive posture while evading others. From all of his exertions, Gar's sweating face only peels back in rage. When did Desade...?_

_"What? Did you think three years in jail would make me slower or something?! This body is nothing but amazing, Watchman, and you should know it by now!" Taking a moment to adjust his leather vest, Desade reminds. "Granted my bones might be a bit metal-heavy, but that weight has made my muscles even stronger! I can fly around this yard faster than one of those Dragonball characters!"_

_"Happy for you." Gar points out though his toothy snarl betrays the opposite._

_"It seems three years living with those friends, however, has made you slower. Look at you, Watchman!" Smiling again, Desade crosses his arms to his chest and snickers. "You've aged, yes, but you've also become slower. Your hair's grown out but your lack of drive has faded. Three years ago you were the most fearsome opponent I ever had. Now you're no better than a Teen Titan."_

_Eyes blazing green, the fiery pits of an emerald hell in each orb, Gar leaps forward with fangs barred. How dare he... how dare HE EVEN.._

_Diving away from the impact forthcoming, Desade casually remarks. "And you want to fight Ripper... in THIS condition? You're a waste, Watchman! In fact, you're not even fit to fight ME!"_

_As Gar hits the ground in a kneel, Desade stops his movement to request borededly. "Red, please entertain the young man while I remind him of somethings he's forgotten."_

_Removing her slim coat now, Red practically giggles to herself, though not the cutesy kind seen so often in television and movies. No, this one possesses the same kind of "sanity" found in those with a fanatical tick of an eye. Shoulder's bare, hair flapping in the surf-driven wind, fingers elongating to form claws fit for a nightmarish dream demon, Red seems pleased to begin._

_"You see, Watchman..." Desade points out though his opponent's gaze now turns to the quickly-approaching woman. "You've spent so long trying to work your way to the top of Jump City's hierarchy by pretending to be evil, badass... But in the process, you forgot that you're still a "hero". No matter what you do, you'll never be evil enough to scare us." Snapping his fingers, Red pounces with a terrific scream. "After all, how can a dog chained up by his masters ever hope to scare us?!"_

---

"Yeah, because of what happened with Desade."

"We don't always win, Garfield. It happens sometimes. Even the best of us get knocked around now and again." Lantern offers. Although Jonn might be the League's resident "psych", the old leatherneck still can offer some advice from time to time.

Voice beginning to drop to a familiar pitch, Gar reminds. "Of course we don't always win... I understand that. Doesn't take away from the facts. Desade was right. Can't scare anyone while I'm still held back. His gang doesn't fear me. They don't fear me, no one will. Unacceptable now."

Hearing the shift in the voice, Lantern finds himself inwardly cringing at the Watchman's face. Although originally shy, almost depressed at the loss, Gar now stares into his own eyes like a statue. Not just any statue either but a statue of an old gladiator, cold and stoic. Ready to kill but without the facial expression to show it. That fire in those eyes without the aid of a snarl, smile, or snicker...

"The League will never let you do the things you suggested in the report, Watchman. We don't allow killing and we won't change our stance on that."

Green Lantern might be trying to cover up his emotions on the subject but its too late now to change the course.

"Was correct then: League has become soft. Become too concerned with its image. Don't want to dirty its hands but asks the impossible."

"Watchman, that's not fair and you know it."

Eyes narrowing slightly, Gar continues knowing that it could lead to a very harsh argument, and eventual reprimand. "Fair? All month met people effected by Desade's kind. Live in slums, shelters.. poverty. Most will never survive to see old age. Fair? Desade gets rich off the drug, told to stop him... Impossible to stop someone without tools to do so. Longer they live, the more influence they use to control Jump City's underworld. They used to fear me.. now only bottom feeders do. Lost their fear, lost their compliance. Fair?"

"Watchman.."

High tide's coming.

"Three years in the League's made me soft.. Made me weak. Can't even fight Desade anymore. Can't even stop one woman. Can't protect friends. Need Slade's help to protect teammates. Honor? Morality? Useless. If the enemy wins, our sacrifice is useless."

"The founding seven have already decided, Watchman!" Lantern nearly shouts, the monotone in Gar's voice starting to punch through even his thick exterior.

Standing up now, Gar turns towards the door. "Then useless to continue working here. Too weak to act, too weak to protect those needing protecting."

"WATCHMAN!" Lantern shouts, standing up from his desk and glaring at the back of Logan's head. "Don't be ridiculous! If you walk out of this group now, you're on your own! No League assistance, no support from the Watchmen, and we're not going to protect you from the police either! For God's sake, don't forget you're a hero and not a.."

"Hero?" Gar's voice, still dry and monotone speaks as if in thought. "Hero protects others without concern for their own well-being. Risks their life despite the danger. When did politics and morality ruin that word?"

"What?!" Lantern hisses, feeling as though physically struck.

Walking towards the door, Gar asks "When did the word become corrupted? A hero protects without desire for fame. Call me a hero? By the real definition maybe I am. By your definition, I'm nothing."

Door sliding open, Green Lantern tells Garfield with aggravation heavy in his bass voice. "You think you understand the League, don't you? Well if you want to call us all a bunch of hypocrites, fine, be my guest. Go out and protect people like you say you'll do. But if you step over that line and start acting like one of those degenerates out there, then.."

"You'll come after me too?" Gar counters. Looking back, his tired face replies in the normal voice he always has. "Sir, you're the second person now to tell me that. If I could prove the Titans wrong, why not prove the League wrong? Besides, the people still need people like me."  
"And what makes you so special, huh? What makes you different than us?!"

Voice returning to dark and monotone, Gar answers. "I'm not a hero."

---

As Gar walks into Question's room, filled with his now former teammates, he dreads the upcoming conversation and the implications it will have on his life.

"You're back. How did it go?" Huntress asks, voice quiet with anticipation. Despite a bad-looking cut on the side of her face, she seems less battered than Gar does.

"It went..." Voice seeming distant though fishing for the appropriate word..

"You don't need to say it." Raven tells him, seeing his expression and knowing full well what it contains. "You tried to get permission to kill again, didn't you?"

"Gar, they're never going to let you kill someone. No matter how many times you ask, they.." Huntress begins.

"Even if all five of us have tried it in the past, they still won't let us under their watch." Light adds though not as distressed as the two women seem to be.

"Still justified at the end of the day.." Question points out, both to Gar's dilemma as well as his incident with Luthor oh so long ago..

"I resigned." Gar heartlessly announces, colder than an Antarctic night. "With the teleport back to Jump City, I'm out of the League."

"What? What the fuck are you talking about?" Raven curses, incensed that he would even joke about..

"I'm not joking, Raven. Lantern left me no choice."

Light even seems amazed at this situation. "You mean he forced you to?"

"Tell me you're joking, Gar. Tell me this is a really bad joke." Huntress asks, eyes wide while Question retreats his hands to his pockets, head tilted down.

"No joke. The League's become too soft, too weak to do what's right. Didn't expect them to let me kill but didn't think they'd willingly hold us back to keep their "honor"."

"I imagine Lantern didn't take it very well?" Question asks, his curiosity ever present despite the questions now flooding his brain.

"No League membership means I'm on my own. No Watchmen, no League support, no police protection."

"How heroic.." Light mutters, looking away.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Raven snaps at Dr. Light, begging for a reason to unleash her rage at the situation.

"What's that supposed to mean? It means that the instant someone wants to do their job around here, the "heroes" above them set the rules in opposition! Instead of letting us protect people, they keep us on the backburner like a bunch of rookies! That's what I mean! How is THAT heroic?!"

"Because murdering and torturing people isn't heroic, LIGHT!" Raven warns angrily, objects beginning to levitate in the air. "ITS THE SAME SHIT THEY DO!"

"You're right." Gar points out. "That's why I suggested a transfer to Dr. Fate's group in my report."

The simple statement, delivered in such a plain way, has implications far beyond the ordinary. As Raven turns, slack-jawed and wide-eyed, she meets the man she loves with a look indescribable.

"What?"

"Of the five of us you're the least likely to do what's necessary to stop Desade's kind." Gar points out against the stunned expressions of Huntress, Question, and Light. No way could Gar ACTUALLY be doing this.. not to Raven... not like this... No way.

Raven herself can't find the words to speak, much less the means. Stuttering isn't something she's used to but even now image is nothing compared to the shock of it all.

"Out of all us, you're the one with the best chance of making it in the League without being forced out in disgrace."

"H.h..how could you..." she finally begins, drawing on each syllable with anger seeping in. "How could you do this.. to us... to me.. Garfield.. HOW COULD YOU?"

As she closes the gap, ready to strike him with all her might. Sending her away, calling her weak.. calling her unable to do what's necessary... How could he.. Raising her fist, she swings at his face, ready to beat some sense into this dreadful, green..

Block.

Arm caught half a second before impact, Gar's voice never waivers as he tells her. "Because I won't ask you to become a monster like I'm becoming."

"That's it? That's your fucking reason? You don't think I can handle what you're becoming?!" She shouts, trying to rest her arm away from his iron grip.

Releasing her arm, Gar embraces her now in a hug. "No. Because its already too late. I've already become that monster you warned I'd become.."

Tears are expected, even if they are through burning eyes and clenched teeth. "You're not a monster.. you're just mixed up.. that's all."

"No, Raven. For the first time in years, I know what I have to do. To stop Desade's gang, I know what I have to become. I can't be a hero like you to protect everyone. I have to walk a different road than you from now on."

"Gar, please... don't..."

"Don't let me down, ok? You'll help more people than I ever can with Fate and I expect nothing but the best from you."

Though wet droplets rain down on the leather coat from below Raven's eyes, a few bits of water splashing on her hair surprise her.

"Why are you doing this, Garfield? Why now? Why do you have to do this to me?"

Eyes feeling the sting of tears, he looks at a sad-looking Huntress, expression-less Question, and resolved-looking Light. "Same reason as I told Lantern: Because I'm not a hero.."

---

_As Gar lies on the floor, bleeding and beaten down, Red and Desade stand within his line of sight. Their laughter, combinations forming a symphony of degradation and despair, echo in his ears mournfully._

_"You will never win, Watchman. As long as you stay in that Justice League, you'll never have what it takes to save your precious city! We'll spare your friends and "allies" today.. I hope you feel every inch of shame you made ME feel all of these years!" Desade warns though trying to keep a smile._

_Red leans down now, staring into his own green eyes with her dark orbs, looking vampiric with the eyeliner. With a playfully evil smile, she tells him "Its a shame you're still pretending to be a human. No matter what you do, you'll always be an animal. Next time we meet, I'll have to put you down for good."_

_Staring up at the darkening sky, Gar's eyes close sorrowfully as they fade away from sight._

_For now, Garfield Logan must sleep.. From those dark dreams, the Watchman will rise again._

_---_

_A/N2: _So, Gar's reeling from an admittedly bad defeat. He's not one to lose lightly, especially considering who he's facing. Thing is though, how will he proceed from here? I'm already starting the next series (I'm thinking about writing these things in seperate stories to make these more one-sit friendly.)  
Oh, and yes, I DID do that to BB/Rae. Why? Because their relationship became that way, and not even shippers can change that.

Will give you a heads up though. Where Gar's going, he goes alone... though I imagine there may be some whiskey involved..


End file.
